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I took your breath, you took my sorrow The youngling was still breathing heavily, his sides heaving from the maximum effort he had exerted to follow the stars. He stood for several moments with wide, coldfire eyes staring into the darkness. The stars had all but flickered away, and there was nothing else in the night to bring him signs of his sister. Disbelief rattled behind his eyes and grief started to grasp his heart. Had he imagined the stars that led him here? Asaavi had been gone for far too long, and suddenly the idea that she might be dead somewhere overwhelmed him. Perhaps the world was playing this trick on him to tell him the truth of his twin's demise. A sharp pain triggered in his chest as he--as literally as he thought possible--his heart shattered within him.
A lump formed in his throat and white hot tears burning behind his dark lashes.
Warriors don't cry, Nizho!
He scolded himself, closing his eyes tightly to trap the tears from leaking down his handsome, boyish face. Stop it!
He pulled in a shaky breath, lifting a cloven hoof to carry him away from this place, from the pain that ripped and tore at his insides. But he stopped, suddenly, when the faintest whisper graced his dark ears. From the darkness, his name echoed and the stars reappeared. The warden's son blinked rapidly, clearing the blur of tears from his line of vision. As her form stepped from the darkness and was illuminated by the beautiful stars, the boy almost could not breathe.
Here she was, the filly he shared his very lifeblood with, standing in front of him.
And she wasn't even a ghost.
The familiar language dripped from her tongue like a memory, but the young warrior could not respond. He merely stepped forward, tentative, lowering his head. His wings quivered slightly at his sides. "Asaavi." He whispered again, brows knitting together as he reached forward with his muzzle to press it into her right shoulder.
He breathed in, deeply, like it was his first--or his last.
He smelled her.
He looked up, catching her eyes.
His favorite color.
Tears spilled over his dark lashes, drenching his cheeks like a broken dam destroys a waiting, silent city. |
@Asavvi
