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09-02-2012, 08:40 PM
Our prince was glad to welcome the reprieve from the heat that had plagued Helovia for the entirety of an all-too-long summer. The heat has retreated enough to allow him to spread his wings today, the massive, delicate limbs that sprout from his back and flow out so naturally, unlike the rest of his gnarled form. Were it not for the wings and the magic that our prince was born with, he would likely have died as a foal, after it happened. Our beloved would never speak of this event, but it weighs heavily on his bitter mind today. Orangemoon always makes him feel the losses of his life more vividly than any other day. Besides, the freedom of movement in the air has allowed our prince to think clearly about other things, instead of the toil of walking. His clumped mess of a mane and tail flap behind him like solid masses of dirt and grime. Leaves, long since forgotten, shake loose in the turbulence of the flight, and twigs fall from the sky and hit unsuspecting creatures down below. A rain of muck, as Enki would call it, was what the bastards below probably deserved. This is one of the great failings of the prince. He longs to find the beauty in the world, but unfortunately thinks badly of most that he meets immediately. Some of this is not entirely farfetched, considering the company he lands himself in, but you might still think our Enki is quite twisted, and not just physically. Perhaps the dirty prince is simply twisted, but we think not. He has a heart that beats strong and deep, but it is rare that anything touches his most precious possession. Only the truly beautiful pierce straight through to that carefully guarded secret, and there isn't a living soul that our Enki has met that he finds beautiful. The world is beautiful to our prince. The curves of hills, the jagged tops of mountains, the patterns of wispy clouds, the graceful limbs of trees, and the glitter of snow - they are beautiful. As for the equids, they are usually corrupt and disgusting. Our beloved still has yet to find one since her, one that he finds beautiful in everyway. He likely would not, but there is a silent hope that dwells in his chest. The expanse of blue comes as a surprise to our prince, for he had not thought that his travels had brought him so far west as to meet the coast. Not wanting to tempt fate by sailing over open waters, the cripple makes a cautious descent on powerful wings toward the water, hoping that the soft liquid would make his landing easier than if he had chosen the sand. His limbs, after all, did not handle that much shock well. The water collides onto him strongly, but the liquid is cool. It is refreshing to his warm body, which has been getting an unexpected amount of exercise compared to his normal daily activity level. Using his wings like oars, the prince scoops his way toward the shore, layers of mud streaming off behind his dirty figure in the water, mixing in with odd black lines that joined in the ocean as well. This is when our prince sees him. A seafoam green eye peers out from behind a thick mass of forelock, caked with dirt and mats of hair. It sees a black figure standing solitary on the beach directly in from of him, but our prince does not change direction. Instead, the deformed pegasus makes it to the shore, twisted, gnarled limbs pulling him out of the water and into the sand, waving his wings up and down to expell the water from them. Our beloved gives a sidelong glance to the stallion, a brief nod of the head in greeting, before echoing out with a sour voice. "Hey." |
