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05-03-2017, 07:12 PM
Stellaluna...
It is a contrasting world that surrounds the little bat, it embraces her, cradles her; a lovingly built dreamscape to nurture and keep safe the child with the broken genes. Though she feels the hard, cold bark of the strange old oak’s bough, so too does he breath with life beneath her. Knobbly twig fingers splay and leafy, long claws waver as the enormous timber monstrosity steadies in the gently combing wind; an effort to balance her minuscule mass. Somewhere still higher, buried beneath two hundred year old burrs and scars, weathered olive irises peer quietly down upon their guest; he groans tiredly for he has seen too many winters (thousands of lost souls), but their primitive ears hear only the eerie sound of the night. The giantess mentions others and plenty of them. The pup glances west into darkness, but her eyes behold something finer there, something marvellous; hoards of pegasus stand in the distance (they have lean, long legs too, glossy moon-lit feathers, and uncanny birdlike semblance) - awe bubbles in her vertical throat, and she swallows hard before inhaling. They are far too big to inhabit the canopy (that she would), so they gather here and there, upon the gentle slope of the undulating earth; though they feed, she cannot quite tell upon what, and she turns back towards Lyanna with still broader eyes than before. “Amazing…” she sighs gullibly. Thought of her flock ring true - Ma, Da, they would undoubtedly be searching, but the adventure has not quite reached its climax and the bat is still raring to go; where fatigue should be nagging, sapping the effervescence from her face, adrenaline feeds a fury of vivacity right through her. They will guide her home when it all comes to an end. Even before the giantess speaks, the child is ready with leathery wings unfurling their veiny breadth - flight is all she knows. She fidgets, excited, watching her new friend with undying enthralment, ever curious to witness the ascent of a creature so large… And her wonderment is not left disappointed; Lyanna travels to a glade (it is long and narrow), and the pup follows keenly behind, from one one tree to the next. The other glances back constantly and every check is rewarded with a bright youthful smile. The hour grows late as the creature takes off and as they rise together into a playful zephyr (the bat zips and dives), the pastel wash of new dawn ignites above the murky eastern horizon. "Turn on the dark, I'm afraid of the light!" |
