No Time for Lies and Empty Fights
Through the murky mist engulfed forest, shroud in night’s blanket, a breath of wind; a whisper of mischief, a careful conscience lurked- invisible, untouchable. His sight, a rippling hazy vision of that world surrounding, watched so meticulously the stride of the stranger; river water puddling in her wake. Through the fog it danced and twirled; bending through the legs of she who lurked beneath the moon’s ethereal shine alone; oblivious, guiding forward his partner to find those Pegasi who still stumbled towards the perilous plague beyond the labyrinth- the Threshold. But there were no feathers this night; no bat wings or fairy-wings, only this bland creature that bore flauntingly the tides of battle upon her sorrel hide.
The stallion crept with precision through the woods; extravagant wingspan ajar, passive flames curling and weaving through rust-red feathers; positively glowing in the half-light. So too did his mane glimmer, and the lavish tuft of tangerine hair sheathing the snapping tail at his rear. The Sun God had rewarded their activity; their labour and their love. Fiery eyes scanned cautiously the tree line ahead- they were there, Veci was beckoning for him; tempting him further, closer. He could see the stranger’s outline ahead, stagnant, the head upturned towards the spill of white light through the sparse canopy between, and he snorted firmly- to rouse her attention should not she have heard the quite deliberate scud of his hooves through the litter.
‘A strange one…’ Came the voice through his mind, and so followed still-frame snippets of her; white-blue eyes, evocative and beautiful, athletic figure, taut and trim, a pendant lying flush with the flesh of her breast. ‘She hears you…’
Unafraid, the soldier pressed forward towards her, ginger eyes narrow and without tenderness and trust- her bloodlines he shared; through some ancestral tie, and for that he could not leave her to those hungering wraiths in the darkness. The nearer he moved, the more attractive she became; his drive, naturally roused, though stewing hormones were quelled and kept far at bay. "This land, Helovia, is unwell. The shadows breathe illness and hunger for souls." Hector watched her unflinchingly, detached, his gaze stoic. "Follow me." The soldier, turned without waiting- he had not the patience to swim through mindless conversation; to linger in the face of danger. Duty called his heart, and though intrigued by this creature, he could not wait for her to agree- it was life or death; live or be eaten.
The zephyr swirled quietly through the span of her tail; weaving wickedly through the snow-kissed breadth while the breeze sang by.
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