the Rift


[OPEN] a spinning compass [hatching]

Gawen Posts: 26
Outcast
Colt :: Hybrid :: 16.3hh :: 6 Months
Atlas :: Royal Nine-tailed Kitsune :: None Brit
#1
The broken-winged bird limps along, traveling the coast on tired limbs that ache and throb with the weight of his journey. Chilled winds snag at a battered hide, still damp from the near-drowning he'd experienced. It had been the only way, the only way to come back home. His bad wing lays limp against his side, mocking him. Reminding him that if only he had been better at flying, if only his father had stuck around to teach him how to claim the skies as his birthright, if only he had been more, then he could have been home at his mother's side seasons ago.

Instead he had been cast away on an island off the coast, delirious with pain and surrounded by foliage he could not determine or make use of. Gawen had been stranded, helpless and alone. Until finally he had charged into the waters, struggling against the currents and the all-encompassing waves, practically drowned himself just to make it back to the mainland. Back to a world that looks as if it had been twisted by callous hands, for how unfamiliar it appears. It doesn't matter that he knows each valley and crevice, because they no longer hold the same sense of home for the boy.

All he can think is he just needs to get home. Then everything will go back to how it was. Everything will be okay. His mother will meet him at the gates, Lyanna will fix his wing, Maude will throw her neck around his withers, Tilney will smile at him and welcome him home.

Gawen just...needs to keep walking.

Each step drags, until the world tilts and motion ceases.

He can't move any further. No matter how close he is, this is where the hawk must roost. So he drags himself into the bracken, uncaring for how it snags at his snarled braids and claws at his skin.

Thwok.

Gawen is too exhausted to be surprised as his hoof knocks into something solid, and stares blearily down at the...surprisingly large obstruction he'd just knocked into. It's...an egg? Gawen thinks so at least, not that he had much knowledge in the way of companions or birds in general. He'd cared more about what grew from the earth, not on it.

Still, as he casts his tired gaze around, he can't bring himself to summon much more than distant curiosity. Perhaps he'll just...wait for the mother to come back? It must be a rather large creature for an egg this size...maybe its arrival would wake him up from his inevitable nap?

Without caring to correct his horribly flawed logic, or think about the fact that any sane predator would hightail it away from a giant pegasus child encompassing their egg, Gawen collapses down around the egg, positioning his lanky legs carefully around it before draping his good wing down around it.

Just a few seconds to close his eyes...

He awakens to a sharp cracking noise. Not exactly what he'd anticipated, but it forcefully rips his consciousness forth away from slumber nonetheless. Icy blue eyes blink fog and fuzz away slowly, head casting around uncertainly for the source of his noise. Until it comes again to his ears, and he peers under the arch of his wing to see the egg he'd subconsciously curled around, the top missing and...something scrabbling at the edges.

What little energy Gawen has from his nap is spent awkwardly scuttling away, trying to give the newborn creature room to bust free from its neonatal prison. All he does is gawk, truthfully. Jaw slack and eyes wide in a manner his mother would scold him for.

Until dark eyes emerge from the egg, immediately focused upon his face as if nothing else in the vast, new world matters. And like a string snapping, the two are brought together, and Gawen feels his mind expand so far he fears he'll simply float away into the galaxy. Impressions press and shove unapologetically at his own mind, graceless and unformed. The hawk stares down, stunned stupid, as the bond coalesces before his eyes. Until finally the blob of white bursts free of the egg, and a sense of satisfaction that is definitely not his own burns across his synapses.

And though his mother would throw him in the lake for ever thinking it, all Gawen can summon to his thoughts is: what the fuck.

- - -


Guess who has no tables for Gawen it's meeee


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