| Outcast atk: 9 | def: 10.5 | dam: 2.5 |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2hh :: 8 HP: 61.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
| Gaz |
08-04-2013, 12:47 AM
(This post was last modified: 08-04-2013, 12:48 AM by Murdock.)
The fields seemed to be his preferred haunting grounds these days. Perhaps it was something about its proximity to the sky or its openness that drew him to it, but he always found himself coming back to the gentle slopes of the alpine meadow. Now that spring had finally touched Helovia, winter’s chill had subsided somewhat, though the darkness prevented any warmth from settling in the air. In the sun’s absence, the grass had hardly regained its liveliness and structure, and instead still hung limply across the dirt among the vibrant moon-flowers. The fields, though still beautiful to him, appeared dead and uninviting despite no longer bearing their burden of snow.
Murdock had sheltered beneath a tree for what he guessed had been the night, though there was hardly any indication that morning had fallen upon them. The Foothills had been left in disarray as sleep patterns were uncoordinated and patrols had begun to die out, leaving their fearless leaders scrambling for organization. He knew he was needed back at home, but he craved the cool, fresh air of the mountains and the freedom that came with wide open spaces. Being able to see the moon and stars once more after what felt like months in darkness made him never want to look away from it, as if he was afraid it might disappear again. Perhaps it would, but for now he would enjoy its presence and pray that light would find them once more.
The fields felt lonely and empty in the darkness, as they often did, but Murdock soon noticed he was not alone. A distant light moved along the tree-line, its path leading it in his direction as it climbed a small hill. The golden shadow moved slowly and carefully at first, and then seemed to flail about ungracefully as if it had been stung by a bee. He watched in silence, curiously looking on as the little shape took flight. It floated gracefully for a moment, leveling out and gaining speed before it came crashing back down to the ground.
His interest piqued, he set off down the slope toward the golden light, squinting through the darkness until he could make out the shapes of a little chestnut foal and a black hellhound. Despite the creature’s youth, Murdock had never had a pleasant experience with such a beast, and so for a moment he hesitated among a bed of frost-wilted flowers. He tipped his head down toward the filly where she lay in the grass, her tiny wings spread out across her back as the pup stood over her protectively. He supposed the girl had been trying to fly, though apparently she hadn’t had much luck.
He remembered his first few flights as though they had happened yesterday, but it had been years since his first attempts at getting into the air. It was always such an accomplishment to finally master the balance and technique as a foal, and he had fortunately caught on quite quickly. He hadn’t been graceful by any means, but his light build and awkwardly long wings had aided him in ways he had never expected them to. Now, flying was almost all his heart had room for and he suspected it was much the same for any other pegasus.
He smiled unthreateningly at the pair as she spoke to the young hound, nodding his head slightly in agreement with her words. “The most important part of any flight is the landing. Don’t be discouraged. It can take many tries to master it.” He took a few steps closer to them, keeping an eye on the pup, though he tried to mask his nervousness. Of course, this time the hellhound didn’t belong to a supremacist unicorn, but one could never be too cautious. “I’m Murdock, Executioner of the Foothills. I could help you get started if you like, with flying I mean. A little help could go a long way.”
"talk talk talk"
[ Murdock's on the job ;) ]
If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman?
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Image Credit
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