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09-20-2015, 09:11 AM
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
"MAMA!"
He nearly choked on the air itself, another voice yelling from his memories—"Dad!"—as the waves threatened to pull her under and keep her from him for forever.
His pale head flung into the air, nostrils widening, eyes glazed over—no no no no, he could think of countless little girls in the Edge who could yell so shrilly, shriek in such a way, and of countless reasons for it happening, things that had nothing to do with wolves or twisted ankles or—
It took him a few seconds of panic to realize that the edge in her voice was not fear, but excitement, and by then he'd already managed to bull forward twenty yards at a mad dash. Frosted hooves dug inelegantly into the spring dirt and brought him to a jarring halt. He breathed out in a quivering snort. No one was dying, but the call kept echoing, until the fog swallowed it completely. Mauja remained where he was, ears flicking atop his head. What was going on? Who was it that called out? Myrrine? Naerys? What other little girls lurked in the fog of his home?
And why was she so desperately seeking her mother? Myrrine's mother wasn't even here; she was trapped in some other dimension. His teeth ground pointlessly against one another.
Well, only one way to find out, really. With the owls off somewhere else he had to rely on instinct and memory, trotting through the forest as fast as he could without tripping over his still-shaking self (adrenaline was a right bastard) or losing track of the way the calls had come from.
In a way, it was soothing—tracking. Following. Doing. The steadfast motion worked the aftermath of his panic out of his system, and by the time he caught sight of a girl who definitely could've been the source of it he had stopped quivering, and the faint sweat on his flanks was nearly dried.
It was Naerys, a young bird chick sitting upon her, wings folded, eyes bright, step exuberant and merry; with her was a stranger, a taller mare with large, black wings. Scars marred her neck and shoulder area, testament to some vicious attack she had lived through. Mauja had never seen her before, but whoever she was, she didn't seem to be Naerys' mother, because they were still clearly looking for someone. And why was it so important to get this mare to her mother?
Nothing about it made sense without the facts he didn't have, but at least no one seemed hurt.
"Uhm," he interrupted pleasantly, curiosity the only thing present on his face as he trotted out of the woodwork, slowing to a walk as he caught up with them. "But what is going on here?"
[ welcome! ^^ @Naerys @Alysanne @Iona -- want a rank change? ^^ ]
He nearly choked on the air itself, another voice yelling from his memories—"Dad!"—as the waves threatened to pull her under and keep her from him for forever.
His pale head flung into the air, nostrils widening, eyes glazed over—no no no no, he could think of countless little girls in the Edge who could yell so shrilly, shriek in such a way, and of countless reasons for it happening, things that had nothing to do with wolves or twisted ankles or—
It took him a few seconds of panic to realize that the edge in her voice was not fear, but excitement, and by then he'd already managed to bull forward twenty yards at a mad dash. Frosted hooves dug inelegantly into the spring dirt and brought him to a jarring halt. He breathed out in a quivering snort. No one was dying, but the call kept echoing, until the fog swallowed it completely. Mauja remained where he was, ears flicking atop his head. What was going on? Who was it that called out? Myrrine? Naerys? What other little girls lurked in the fog of his home?
And why was she so desperately seeking her mother? Myrrine's mother wasn't even here; she was trapped in some other dimension. His teeth ground pointlessly against one another.
Well, only one way to find out, really. With the owls off somewhere else he had to rely on instinct and memory, trotting through the forest as fast as he could without tripping over his still-shaking self (adrenaline was a right bastard) or losing track of the way the calls had come from.
In a way, it was soothing—tracking. Following. Doing. The steadfast motion worked the aftermath of his panic out of his system, and by the time he caught sight of a girl who definitely could've been the source of it he had stopped quivering, and the faint sweat on his flanks was nearly dried.
It was Naerys, a young bird chick sitting upon her, wings folded, eyes bright, step exuberant and merry; with her was a stranger, a taller mare with large, black wings. Scars marred her neck and shoulder area, testament to some vicious attack she had lived through. Mauja had never seen her before, but whoever she was, she didn't seem to be Naerys' mother, because they were still clearly looking for someone. And why was it so important to get this mare to her mother?
Nothing about it made sense without the facts he didn't have, but at least no one seemed hurt.
"Uhm," he interrupted pleasantly, curiosity the only thing present on his face as he trotted out of the woodwork, slowing to a walk as he caught up with them. "But what is going on here?"
[ welcome! ^^ @Naerys @Alysanne @Iona -- want a rank change? ^^ ]
man, I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same
