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Gaucho and the Sun God...
Feeling rather sorry for herself, she walked east, following the path of the rising sun. Darkness crept from her nostrils and wept from her eyes, sending the whole world in a spiral of black and white. The sores on her body only seemed to get worse, and she groaned audibly, dragging her cloven hooves one at a time across the sandy salt. The air was too clean, and the world was too beautiful, though whatever disease this was, her very vision was failing into monochrome. That made all of this much more bearable. Just barely.
There was a point when the landscape changed. She wasn't exactly sure when, but a thin layer of water rested beneath her hooves. It was smooth enough to be glass, reflecting perfectly the sky overhead. If not for the occasional rock, she would have no idea if she was flying, falling, swimming or any manner of right side up. It was beautiful, and it added to her misery. Aithniel frowned, trudging and splashing through this mirror water until she arrived at a gathering.
Her father was there, standing so proudly and handsomely. And here she was, ugly and spotty with a nasty cough. She wanted to die on the spot, hide behind her wings and turn invisible. Instead, she stiffened her spine and faced the world head on, killing her humiliation one suspicious look at a time. Aithniel should be proud of her fight, and she was... but this was uncharacteristically cruel.
Even Gaucho was there, wrapped in his flames of power and glory; he was more an agent of the Sun God than she was, and she sighed. Everything about him was perfect, and she was just a sickly child once more. Aithniel frowned, waiting. There was no point in approaching anyone or making herself known - not like this.
But burn down our home
I won't leave alive
Please tag me in everything!
