the Rift


[PRIVATE] Little light of mine

Nephele Posts: 82
Dragon's Throat Guardian atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.3 :: 7 HP: 64.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Atreus :: Lammergeier :: None Nova
#1

made not with love but glory, and the haunting ghost of war


Frostfall had brought with it the usual temperature drop, many sought shelter in the caverns nestled within the jagged rocks and canyon like slopes between the dunes to escape the biting cold. Neph was no exception, her nook within the red rock was comfortable, grasses plucked and scattered to provide a little extra padding where the sand may have chafed, molted feathers woven in between to create a downy bed for her and her children to rest upon. The cold also brought on the stereotypical reluctance to leave such a comfortable spot when the sun first scattered his light across the land, the odd coloured wings of the warrioress are spread, a gentle warm canopy under which her boys could comfortably curl against her side.

A blue eye opened first, drawn from her slumber when she couldn't feel the warmth of a body under one of her wings anymore. Atreus too woke with a grouchy chirp, nestled in her flowing hair as her head tilted toward the absent space beside her. It didn't take her long to guess who of the two it would be. They were so different, but harmonious when together. Where Byron was brave and bold, Jude was gentle and quiet, where Byron reminded her of the rising tides and the ocean squalls, Jude was the misty mountains and the rolling green glades beneath it. Once more, the slightly elder son had failed to surprise his mother in his absence, it wasn't the first time he had snuck out in order to watch the dawn and she doubted it would be the last. He would come back shortly, or try and sneak up on the trio as they went about their day.

"Jude." Her voice is accompanied with the removal of her wing. "It is time to get up, it looks as though it is just the two of us for now." She stated with a small smile, legs already at work as she pulled herself to her feet. The vulture took to the air as well, downy wings kept him steady by his bonded's shoulder while his red rimmed gaze watched her colt with curiosity. They had just made the connection, but already, his careful, calculated picking at her memories and the soulfire that burned within her breast — she was not a delicate fae creature who danced in the wind on silks and singing to the woodland creatures when she touched back to earth. She was grit, she was fire and smoke, iron and steel. Jude's difference from her was a puzzling question, one that had him stumped. How could such a mare give birth to such a soft design.

Once she was limber and the sand shaken from her coat, her pierced nose dropped with new found care to try and gently help her son to his feet. "Byron is off exploring, again. No doubt he'll have some strange trinket to show you when he gets back." Byron was otherwise entertained for however long his vagabond heart had him tumbling over dunes and jumping up the small ruins of the canyon walls, it would be a perfect time to bond with her more silent child. She fretted for his quietness, how gentle his heart was deep down. It had shocked her, as much as it had stoked her desire and need to protect and keep him safe from all those who might've frowned that he was spun not of fire and iron like his mother. Tender creatures were often so fragile, and she feared that without a subtle nudge, or encouragement — he could shatter into a million shards. "What would you like to do today, go to the beach maybe? I hear there are hippocampus' in the coves. Or would you like to go somewhere else?" Her suggestion of the beach is just that, maybe her son would want to go to the mainland instead. Part of her heart hoped so, let him take that small step, let him taste that bit of adventure that his brother thrived upon and snatch it with abandon.


talk talk talk

N E P H E L E


@Jude

“She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, not up close.” 

― Terry Pratchett
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