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the Rift
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Artric Smiles, Sweet Warm Memories
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10-18-2013, 04:36 PM
10-22-2013, 01:22 AM
The forested lands of the Threshold are bathed in mid-afternoon sunlight and the sweltering heat is continuing to rise. Patches of tall deep green plants bursting with white blossoms are scattered among the wide canopied oaks and small critters peer out from behind stalks and tree leaves. Larger creatures of the equine variety are about as well though most prefer to wait out the heat wave in shadier spots. One of those that has chosen not to be bothered by the heat is a dark gray mare with ink black wings. She has been here before, on her own arrival day, not long ago at all. On that day she flew in upon the back of a wind storm but now she makes her plodding way between the trees on foot. Her wings are folded tightly against her side to avoid scraping the white-gray bark from the trunks and her eyes are half closed in bliss as the heat sinks into her weary muscles. She is carrying herself on sturdier legs then before but it is clear from her movements that her health is still lagging. Her steps bring her to the edge of a clearing where she stops and tucks herself in under one of the trees to watch the comings and goings for a time. Just as she settles a shiver rakes her unusually frail frame.
Two days and three nights have I rested under the ever watchful eye of Solace. The topic of a potential healer has been raised a time or two but I will not consent. It seems an awful waste of precious energy to magically heal my complaints. After all, I’ve come by this sorry state of mine honestly… that is the say that I did it to myself and am well aware that I deserve to suffer. So I will recover the slower, natural way. My appetite has yet to return though I am forever thirsty, nonetheless I am feeling better. I can, at least, move under my own power without the fear of falling over. It will likely be weeks before I am strong enough to fly but I will take what I can get for now. Solace will not be pleased when he finds I have left my sheltered spot for how can he guard me as he promised if he does not know where I am? He will forgive me though, I think I’ve learned that much about my new friend. My reasons for abandoning the “safe zone” are simple, I must stretch my legs and work the muscles by walking longer distances or my recovering will be slowed even more. So here I am retracing the steps of my arrival night, back to the place they call the Threshold. It is a pleasant enough place and when I feel I can walk no further without resting I tuck in under one of the larger trees to quietly observe my surroundings. The shiver that takes me is an unexpected surprise in this heat and for a moment I worry that I’ve made my illness worse but shivering was never a symptom before… Light, floating laughter fills the clearing and it seems to be coming from the sky itself at first. Then an odd bird comes into view. He is not a bird truly, he is a horse and a normal horse lacking the wings that grace the form of the gray mare. So, how is he flying? He moves closer hovering like a hummingbird and then it is possible to discern the sets of small buzzing wings on the back of each obviously cloven hoof. So perhaps he is not a normal horse after all… He lands upon the soft grass of the clearing, flipping the ends of a colorful scarf up around his neck as he calls out to the surrounding patches of sunlight in the piercing voice of youth. The words are pleasant and unremarkable though the boy himself is remarkable indeed. A coat of sky blue laced with cloud white stretches across his thin frame and the black highlights are as striking as those of his current watcher. His eyes too look to be blue and a funny mark spreads out along his muzzle. There is something about the smile plastered to his face that is both welcoming and not at the same time. I forget the shiver as something lands in the empty clearing, it is a strange something. A boy about the age that my daughter would be now. It seems, at first, that he is cursed with the same misfortune as my dear Bellissima and most of the others I’ve met in this place so far. Then I see that he does in fact have wings, they are just in the wrong place. How, odd… truly there is little about him that is not odd. This is intriguing but even if he were a normal being I would still be drawn to him for his youth alone. It has been sometime since I’ve had a young boy or girl around to mother. Of course, I must be careful for while I may see him as a child still he undoubtedly sees himself as more than half grown. Cantante stands in her shade for a minute or two then steps forward for the very young stallion to see. “I can tell you exactly where you are if you’d really like to know. As to what has become of your friends, that I’m afraid I have no answer for. What sort of game were you planning?” She falls silent then waiting and watching him intently. | ||||||
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