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06-24-2017, 01:56 AM
The world was ending.
At least, that's what it felt like. The weathermare had taken some time for herself, after coming to several realisations.
She was afraid of commitment, to the point where as soon as any semblance of it came near her, she ran far away - every time. And she did not return until such a time as she could be sure that whoever it was who had inspired this fear was well and truly gone.
Well, at least I've got that part right. She thought glumly, as she stared blankly at the world. There was something different about Helovia, as she flew on broad dark wings over the lands. Cirrus was a native, born and raised here, and though over the years she had wandered, Helovia had always had that feeling about it.
With a healthy wind beneath her wings, she observed the lands now, unable to pinpoint exactly what was going on. Something was lacking, though no real differences screamed out to her. It was as if Helovia was simply like any other land beyond the Threshold now - and maybe that was it.
Helovia was never meant to be that kind of land - it always was, always had been, a land of magic, of elemental powers, of Gods.
Where were the Gods?
The weathermare flew over the lands, though she didn't know what she searched for. The Endless Blue called to her, as it always had, and so with a swirl of dry sand, she landed. A breeze, pleasant yet persistent, hung around her, and clouds drifted lazily across the sky above her and upon her pelt.
"Well, shit," was all she could say, because while the world still turned, something was wrong, and she couldn't figure out what.
At least, that's what it felt like. The weathermare had taken some time for herself, after coming to several realisations.
She was afraid of commitment, to the point where as soon as any semblance of it came near her, she ran far away - every time. And she did not return until such a time as she could be sure that whoever it was who had inspired this fear was well and truly gone.
Well, at least I've got that part right. She thought glumly, as she stared blankly at the world. There was something different about Helovia, as she flew on broad dark wings over the lands. Cirrus was a native, born and raised here, and though over the years she had wandered, Helovia had always had that feeling about it.
With a healthy wind beneath her wings, she observed the lands now, unable to pinpoint exactly what was going on. Something was lacking, though no real differences screamed out to her. It was as if Helovia was simply like any other land beyond the Threshold now - and maybe that was it.
Helovia was never meant to be that kind of land - it always was, always had been, a land of magic, of elemental powers, of Gods.
Where were the Gods?
The weathermare flew over the lands, though she didn't know what she searched for. The Endless Blue called to her, as it always had, and so with a swirl of dry sand, she landed. A breeze, pleasant yet persistent, hung around her, and clouds drifted lazily across the sky above her and upon her pelt.
"Well, shit," was all she could say, because while the world still turned, something was wrong, and she couldn't figure out what.
with love, Cirrus
lunarblues & larfsalot @ deviantart
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:
