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10-14-2013, 07:24 PM
It would be inaccurate to say that I was an easy creature to shock. I had seen things – done things – far beyond the content of my character, and lost not a whit of sleep over it in passing. Rather, it didn’t take much to draw me in, the proverbial – or not so proverbial – moth. I was yet young in both age and appearance, however fat my memoirs had already grown, and I was not yet so proper as to swallow my emotions outright.
A pair of strange-looking horses (for unicorn or pegasus or demon, ‘horse’ was still how I saw them – especially now, after everything that had happened) had slipped like ghosts out of the humid, woody air and into our sun-dappled corner of wherever.
Oh. And a bear. Hello, bear.
Instinctively my neck slipped across Sasha’s withers as he stepped across my path – out of habit rather than fear, though something had indeed sparked a tiny thrill in my heart. Our glossy hides ran together like warm ink.
I moved my head slightly as though to whisper in his ear, my eyes lingering perhaps too long on the star-clad pegasus, and self-consciously thought better of it. Father’s habits were rude habits.
My name on Sasha’s lips was as a fire on my skin. Briefly, I glowed, but my thoughts were already a pile of ferrets. I looked from one mare to the next, to the bear, to the shadow that had yet to present itself as more than a whisper, then surrendered to a proper and unashamed stare at Irrydae’s wings before concluding with a flick of my ears that perhaps the most dignified course of action would be to address the trees instead.
“I have lots of questions,” I said honestly. Most of them were absolute rubbish; Sasha was the pragmatist, not I, and he was occupied.
And to think, brother mine, that we were once princes and kings. No wonder the dynasty fell.
Tilting my head, I wrestled the wild colorful snare of my consciousness into some semblance of order and started at the only place that made any sort of sense. I glanced again at the forest before fixing my gaze upon our company from across the curve of my brother’s neck. “What exactly is this a threshold to?”
Besides ‘Helovia’, obviously. I’d gathered that much.
A pair of strange-looking horses (for unicorn or pegasus or demon, ‘horse’ was still how I saw them – especially now, after everything that had happened) had slipped like ghosts out of the humid, woody air and into our sun-dappled corner of wherever.
Oh. And a bear. Hello, bear.
Instinctively my neck slipped across Sasha’s withers as he stepped across my path – out of habit rather than fear, though something had indeed sparked a tiny thrill in my heart. Our glossy hides ran together like warm ink.
I moved my head slightly as though to whisper in his ear, my eyes lingering perhaps too long on the star-clad pegasus, and self-consciously thought better of it. Father’s habits were rude habits.
My name on Sasha’s lips was as a fire on my skin. Briefly, I glowed, but my thoughts were already a pile of ferrets. I looked from one mare to the next, to the bear, to the shadow that had yet to present itself as more than a whisper, then surrendered to a proper and unashamed stare at Irrydae’s wings before concluding with a flick of my ears that perhaps the most dignified course of action would be to address the trees instead.
“I have lots of questions,” I said honestly. Most of them were absolute rubbish; Sasha was the pragmatist, not I, and he was occupied.
And to think, brother mine, that we were once princes and kings. No wonder the dynasty fell.
Tilting my head, I wrestled the wild colorful snare of my consciousness into some semblance of order and started at the only place that made any sort of sense. I glanced again at the forest before fixing my gaze upon our company from across the curve of my brother’s neck. “What exactly is this a threshold to?”
Besides ‘Helovia’, obviously. I’d gathered that much.
