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A zephyr, sparks from his wings. The bright angelic mare before me, kindness in her eyes. For me, for my dark self in the rising sun. The white mare does not remember me. Suitable - for I do not remember her. It doesn't matter now - we are introducing ourselves. Can always start anew and with a clean slate. The sparks of her Zephyr surprise me a bit. I don't flinch, but my eyes widen a little and my nostrils flare. His name is Astraeus. It reminds me of the stars, and I smile builds on my lips. I bob my crown in greeting to the feathered sir.
I realize that Sohalia is offering words to the parrot hopping on the ground. I can tell that the parrot is unfamiliar with the sandy terrain - it doesn't surprise me, just because the two don't seem to go together. At least, I always thought parrots were more comfortable in jungles. But what Sohalia says... Clearly I have misunderstood. In a scene I could never have possibly imagined, the parrot that was only a foot, two feet tall.. morphs to a one-winged pegasus before my eyes. I take a step back, my nostrils flaring, and my ears twitching uncomfortably. This is certainly something I had not expected.
And then she speaks. A parrot, to a pegasus. I can see all the similar markings. Whatever type of parrot she could morph into, it resembled her perfectly. Except for the wings. The pegasus before me has only one. But if I imagine her with a second wing, I recognize her. Africa... I only met her in passing once.. a long time ago. But the name stuck with me, beautiful and somehow foreign. By her words, she remembers me, too. I bow my head to her in greeting and murmur her name, almost inaudibly. This is already a lot of talking for me, and I feel my mouth getting dry. A cry from above, unfriendly and my lobes pin again against my skull. Another zephyr, looking at me sternly. If he was here before when I knew Africa, I don't remember him. She ascertains that he is usually not so unruly, and I take her word for it, my ears slowly rotating back to an open, happy position.
Africa approaches me, and I move forward, too. The granules below rise over my flints, beginning to warm slightly as the sun rises, illuminating our gathering. I extend my muzzle toward Africa, wanting to know her smell again. I pull my muzzle back once the moment has passed and cock my head. Though I do not express it, the question is clear. I glance at her missing wing and cock my head. I knew her as a carefree, joyful girl. What happened?
Walk walk walk. Talk talk talk.
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[P] Like the dawn, I rise again (CLOSED)
