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05-04-2017, 02:01 PM
(This post was last modified: 05-04-2017, 03:25 PM by Stellaluna.)
Stellaluna...
Two hours pass like a blur. The little bat quickly grows tired, early in their journey, for she has played the whole night through and the distance travelled during those safe hours of dark, has already been great. So is she nocturnal too, and the growing day and ultraviolet light it brings, burns her soft blue eyes; lashes agitate jadedly, and she is reluctant to go on. The giantess though, is patient, considerate and they pause in a dank, dingy forest to rest; the pup nestles amid the boughs of yet another old oak as it bends and sways against the coursing wind, rocking and lulling her to sleep. She stirs again at evening, when the bleach white streamers trailing across blue, turn dim, dull and grey, as night's first kiss bruises the soft relic light of day; and before anything else, she is excited…Curious blue eyes plunge between the leafy arms of her host and the ancient timber’s gnarled knuckles loosen their vigilant grip; presently, the bat swings lower, descending his body with the reckless skill of youth, trusting and heedless, even as clawless toes slide and slip along the way. He will catch her, she knows, but he needn’t. The nimble-footed climber with the twisted knees, arrives upon the lowest of his limbs and from there she can see the dark image of Lyanna the pegasus, locked lightly between worlds; though she slumbers, those feminine lines etched across her long, chiselled face flinch and flicker, the lids sit weakly pressed together and the child thinks that soon she’ll wake. Soon… The breath of mother-night draws close and the drum of an invigorated heart resonates in her ears; what wonders lie out there, she muses restively, eagerly, and between the silent thrust of wings she swoops away through the strangely flavoured air. Into the next tree she alights, smaller-sized wood she is unfamiliar with - though he welcomes her, tossing heartily the great mass of green at his head. The bat greets him warmly with a press of her nose, but her eyes survey the area beneath; the blackening brook who's pretty babble beckons her down. The child is not hasty, at all - not with the pack still stalking behind. Only when the dark has thickened enough to shroud her, does she drop down to drink. "Turn on the dark, I'm afraid of the light!" |
Open to anyone
@Lyanna | you are welcome to join, but its not necasary :) Stella won't go far enough to interrupt their journey to WE. I can take out my cheeky PP too if you prefer <3
