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02-07-2016, 05:42 AM
To truly understand the beast,
one must meet him,
and unlock that which beats within his glowing chest.
It was time to grow up.
Ivezho had procrastinated long enough. He had left his birthlands too long ago, and taken far too long to return to them. Finally, he angled his path south, and stayed on it - ignoring any would-be distractions and diversions.
It was surprisingly easier than he expected.
To say he was looking forward to it would be a lie - but not an entire lie. He was excited, energised - but also nervous, terrified.
Like a beacon, a glowing prodigal son, he came in the night, for darkness did not scare him - he had never known darkness, not truly, for he carried the light of the burning sun within him, it filled him out, it seemed to be bursting at every bend of his body, every joint and feather. Even the depths of his nostrils never seemed dark - on a misty night, when he breathed deeply and exhaled the warm air, he appeared almost as if he breathed fire, or light.
He supposed it was some homage to his father, some mark of his heritage that he would never be able to escape - not that he felt he needed to escape it so much as embrace it. He didn't hate his blood, or his family, he just didn't want to be defined by it - he didn't want to feel pressured into behaving a certain way, or living up to certain expectations, just because of the names of his parents, or siblings.
Ranjiri's words echoed in his mind, and still he rejected them ignored them, denied their significance. He would live a life for himself no matter what she, or anyone, thought about it.
He had to return here of his own accord, he had to make the decision on his own, or else he might have returned otherwise, but without conviction, without purpose, without any intention of staying longer than a day, a season, a year.
Ivezho wanted to stay here for the rest of his life.
He flew over the gap between the mainland and his homeland with ease, scooping the breeze like an old friend and using it to make his landing on the sand smooth, easy, welcoming. Landing was one thing, however - he still needed to face the locals.
With a low rumble, he announced his presence to the lands, and awaited the arrival of whatever welcoming committee might come.
Idly, he wondered how many of them he might be related to.
Ivezho had procrastinated long enough. He had left his birthlands too long ago, and taken far too long to return to them. Finally, he angled his path south, and stayed on it - ignoring any would-be distractions and diversions.
It was surprisingly easier than he expected.
To say he was looking forward to it would be a lie - but not an entire lie. He was excited, energised - but also nervous, terrified.
Like a beacon, a glowing prodigal son, he came in the night, for darkness did not scare him - he had never known darkness, not truly, for he carried the light of the burning sun within him, it filled him out, it seemed to be bursting at every bend of his body, every joint and feather. Even the depths of his nostrils never seemed dark - on a misty night, when he breathed deeply and exhaled the warm air, he appeared almost as if he breathed fire, or light.
He supposed it was some homage to his father, some mark of his heritage that he would never be able to escape - not that he felt he needed to escape it so much as embrace it. He didn't hate his blood, or his family, he just didn't want to be defined by it - he didn't want to feel pressured into behaving a certain way, or living up to certain expectations, just because of the names of his parents, or siblings.
Ranjiri's words echoed in his mind, and still he rejected them ignored them, denied their significance. He would live a life for himself no matter what she, or anyone, thought about it.
He had to return here of his own accord, he had to make the decision on his own, or else he might have returned otherwise, but without conviction, without purpose, without any intention of staying longer than a day, a season, a year.
Ivezho wanted to stay here for the rest of his life.
He flew over the gap between the mainland and his homeland with ease, scooping the breeze like an old friend and using it to make his landing on the sand smooth, easy, welcoming. Landing was one thing, however - he still needed to face the locals.
With a low rumble, he announced his presence to the lands, and awaited the arrival of whatever welcoming committee might come.
Idly, he wondered how many of them he might be related to.
Ivezho
@Zèklè @Ranjiri @Rhoa @Zenobia
& Open for any!!
Maybe a Gaucho child reunion o:
please do not feel pressured into mirroring the length of any of my posts
I write what I feel at the time
and hope everyone else does the same c:
