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04-01-2017, 09:26 PM
amaris
dragonborn
Snow. It was patchy, melted away in sections, not as pristine or perfect as would be during the cooler months, but the reaches of TallSun had made it even this far North. It was pale, and with the light of dawn dancing across it, the patches of snow glimmered as if they were bodies of water - mirages, figments of light and imagination.
Why does everything remind me of her? she asked her beloved bonded, but it the question was rhetoric - no answer was needed and so no answer was supplied, aside from the silent, ever-present support of his soul with hers, his golden heart beating alongside hers. The image of Mirage swam between their consciousnesses, both as a dancing black figurine draped in illusionary magic, and a magnificent golden dragon queen, and then another image, of the little black mare with teats full of milk, nursing her daughters, loving her herd and her mate, giving her life to them. And another still, of the DragonHeart, the woman who wrought so much destruction across lands she only wanted to help, to build into greatness, to inspire and love and care for - but which she left in ruins, heartache, death.
Golden eyes looked out over the snowy plain, breathing the cool air, revelling in the sensation of it against her dully glowing wounds - the splashes of burns across her legs and barrel seemed to be fading some, but the gashes across her chest seemed to instead be taking on a silvery glow of their own. While the rest of her wounds would heal without permanent scarring, somehow the dragonmare knew the four lines left behind by the fire-demon's sharp claws would remain, would linger, a constant reminder of the events that had unfolded in her past.
Wandering slowly, but at least with less pain now, the dragonmare searched the bare patches of earth for something edible, and nibbled here and there at the coarse grasses which grew so far north - anything that lived this far north would surely have to be coarse and tough in order to survive.
For @Vynter and @Fenyx C:
Why does everything remind me of her? she asked her beloved bonded, but it the question was rhetoric - no answer was needed and so no answer was supplied, aside from the silent, ever-present support of his soul with hers, his golden heart beating alongside hers. The image of Mirage swam between their consciousnesses, both as a dancing black figurine draped in illusionary magic, and a magnificent golden dragon queen, and then another image, of the little black mare with teats full of milk, nursing her daughters, loving her herd and her mate, giving her life to them. And another still, of the DragonHeart, the woman who wrought so much destruction across lands she only wanted to help, to build into greatness, to inspire and love and care for - but which she left in ruins, heartache, death.
Golden eyes looked out over the snowy plain, breathing the cool air, revelling in the sensation of it against her dully glowing wounds - the splashes of burns across her legs and barrel seemed to be fading some, but the gashes across her chest seemed to instead be taking on a silvery glow of their own. While the rest of her wounds would heal without permanent scarring, somehow the dragonmare knew the four lines left behind by the fire-demon's sharp claws would remain, would linger, a constant reminder of the events that had unfolded in her past.
Wandering slowly, but at least with less pain now, the dragonmare searched the bare patches of earth for something edible, and nibbled here and there at the coarse grasses which grew so far north - anything that lived this far north would surely have to be coarse and tough in order to survive.
For @Vynter and @Fenyx C:
sky above me — earth below me
and fire within me
No need to mirror my post length - I have a horrible case of the rambly writer syndrome!
I like being tagged!
You are always welcome to 'try' and use force/magic on Amaris, but similar to spar posts, leave it to me to decide how the damage is taken please~
