the Rift

[OPEN] why is there always fire?

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie

Their children will learn to hope for a Caesar.

We’re watching fires eat the world from a safe distance, way up here in the stifling heat so near the sun.  Normally, I stand at the edge of this peculiar outcropping of land which overlooks the mountains, like a distant guardian, watching the ants which are actually people crawl around the winding trails and eternal forests of the Frostbreath’s peaks, but I’m normally also alone. 
Today, I’ve brought Duir here for the first time, to look out at all that can be seen (an impressive amount, really) from this particular place in Helovia, partly in hope (wrongly so) that it would be less horribly sweltering up here.  The view extends out over the far peaks and ice caverns of my homeland, the remarkably covert hills and bends of the Hidden Falls, and all the way out to where the shimmer of the heat cast over the deserts of the south ripple, barely visible from this far, over the rolling arc of the Thistle Meadow.  It’s a good place to teach a young buck about where things are, should I ever need him to carry out a task on his own, but we’ve become distracted by the wall of flame that rampages about the fringes of the Deep Forest, devouring the brittle, sun dried grass as it trails west.
I’d explained as much about my plans to teach him geography as we’d walked up the long, arduous path to get here, having skirted the Threshold as best we could to avoid those who would hold up my plans for the afternoon.  Unlike I had been as a youth, the fawn had been very intrigued by the notion, and had proceeded to lead the rest of the way up here.  Now, he’d lost some of that anxious excitement, his heart flickering with a foreign compassion for those who might be caught down there in the fire.
I don’t think about other people a whole lot.  It’s different to be bound to another who does, almost more often than he does himself, though I guess it’s not entirely bad.
"We couldn’t help them, anyway," I say, because it’s true; I can’t heal or combat flame.  Besides, it would take forever to get there from here, even if we ran ourselves ragged without thought for ourselves; for Duir, that’s not far.  He’s still in his spots, his body lined with scant, youthful muscles that serve him little in distance running, no matter how agile it makes him.  His eyes meet with mine, filled with a sorrowful understanding as to why we can’t; young, but not foolish, he knows that, more often than not, there really isn’t anything either one of us can do, even if I could be bothered enough to care.
Looking back out over everything in unison, the wind tousles my mane, trails the growth of ivy sprouting from the small nubs of Duir’s glittering horns across his soft, chocolate face.  The excitement he’d felt coming up here is gone entirely, replaced instead with something somber and thoughtful, and I can’t help but think how dismal it is to be around the moody one for once.
"We can do something else today," I suggest, but he shakes his head no, still looking out at the fire.  I can’t help but be thankful he doesn’t want to go, mostly because the afternoon is late, and it’s hot enough that I’m barely even damp, though I know I’m sweating pretty badly.  Walking back down to normal altitude seems like almost the worst idea ever to me, but I also really dislike feeling such melancholy radiating from my usually composed or cheerful companion.
I frown, looking down at him.  I’d already told him that it was the Meadow on fire; now, I turn my attentions out over the deep, emerald shadow of the Deep Forest, out into where the deep tones of green become lighter, neatly arranged in strange patterns.  Its very distant and indistinct, almost hidden by the natural curvature of the landscape, but it is there, regardless.
"Way over there is where we met Remy and Rexanna, when you were born," I suggest, hoping to distract him from whatever thoughts have him so bundled up and staring.  It sort of works, because he moves his attentions away from the wildfire and its horror to the Labyrinth; the thought of friends, however, seems to bring to mind more concerns for him, and I can’t help but glower, and continue on, frustrated.  "And that’s the Deep Forest, there.  Both those places are hard to navigate if you don’t know what you’re doing and where you are going."


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