Яikyn

My long legs pull across the earth, a sleek ebony streak through the grey-green-blue-white-heythatsyellow blur that is the Steppe as I push my muscles to their brink.  It’s a breakneck run, a flying thing that is dangerous as much as it is fun; I don’t have time to watch for holes in the path before me and I have very little time to react if I startle some creature and it leaps into my way, but that is the reason I’m hauling ass anyway.
 
Nothing is ever good if it’s easy, is it?
 
Besides, the season has filled me with vigor, as if the renewal to the vegetation along the mountain paths has spread to my body, and though I’m bruised all over, I find that I don’t care, having savored their initial ache into the nothingness they were now, like some kind of peculiar hard candy.  Since the spar with Ashamin, it seems the only blokes I’ve found to spar with have been Gods – and while it is thrilling, it’s not quite the carefree release of pent of energy that I need. 
 
Actually, it was nothing at all like a release at all.  More like some sort of bedazzling disco ball memory that kept flashing about in my head recklessly, leading me to do the sort of things like charge down narrow and treacherous mountain paths, the thunder of my hooves resounding through the halls of the Steppe.
 
The rise I’d been climbing evens out for several paces before dropping down into an open meadow framed by boulders and sloping peaks, and with an added burst of speed I leap from the top of the rise to the downward scaled path below.  My breath is deep and steady, a heavy whump whoosh whump that escapes a slightly open mouth curved into a smile of utter delight and carefree abandon.
 
As the hillock flattens out I level my speed, easing from a wild gallop to a canter and then a slow, easy lope, letting each gait slowly move down the ladder as the rate of my heart followed suit, until at last I’m slowly walking through this pristine little flat section of the mountain’s breadth that, as I search my memory, I don’t think I’ve been in before.
 
Adventure runs through me now, replacing the rampant madness that had brought me here with the lure of seeing new things worth seeing, having found that, as one ages, the wonders in life seem to slip further and further apart; I can’t help but worry that, one day, they’ll be gone all together.
 
 
[OOC:  IDK if Chan already threw something up for you smack me because it was totally not worth making you suffer through that crap post then. ;D ALSO it hates tagging Lyn. D: ]

in every heart a hole