Discovering.

Discovering.

Svetlana Posts: N/A

Unregistered

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12-23-2012, 12:49 AM

SVETLANA
the StormChaser

There was... there was... something indescribable to flying. How could you explain the luxury of it to someone who had never experienced it? You just couldn't, I thought to myself, enjoying the rush of air over my wings as I glided, the only sound a muffled thump as my wings came down. Down, and up. Down, and up. I sighed, trying to forget the difficulties in the stroke of my wings, trying to forget all the stupid problems. Jackal and Kri; Azzunen and the brothers. Romani. Nayati. Leander.

I snorted, annoyed at myself. So much for not dwelling on things. Best to forget now. Best to just lose myself. I was moving from the Windtossed Foothills, flying maybe one hundred, two hundred feet above the ground, varying slightly in altitude depending on the kindness of the weather. I had been flying for about thirty minutes, maybe to forty, a thirty minute flight to either Foothills or World's Edge.

Really, I was supposed to be coasting towards the Deep Forest, but I couldn't help but notice the looming behemoths; the mountains. I wondered; what was inside them? Were they hollow? I paused, the wind ruffling my mane and tangling my tail, wings extended for a full glide. Then I tilted, banking right, towards those stubborn gray things that were unbowing to anything.

I flapped my wings, angling my course towards the mountains tall and stony. Their tops, their sharp fangs, still glistened white and sparkled gold with snowfall from the winter long. It must be very cold up there, for it to not have melted yet. Now I was in the warm air above the rolling hills. The soft waving grass below looked like an old mare's winter coat, with her swayed back and shaggy hair. Except, of course, a mare's coat may be a light gold, but it wasn't faded greens and mottled emeralds. Nor was it scattered with wildflowers blooming up even as spring turned to summer.

It was mid-day by the time I came anywhere close to those massive, unnamed mountains. Maybe I should call them something, just for the sake of it. No, there was nothing significant to them- anyone could call them plain old mountains, if anyone could call the monsters "plain". I let my right wing trace a path level to the scrubby paths where only mountain goats walk, before moving up, my feet nearly touching the ground.

With a few beats of my wings, I was higher in the air, and continued on my wandering path around and through the mountains. It wasn't until at least evening did I find a place to roost for the night. My eyes found a ragged mounta, with a hooked peak like a beak; and I could almost imagine it was a bird looking out savagely into the night. The mountain had a hole in it, a small black hole on its flank, but there nonetheless.

I came gliding downwards towards the lip of the cave, the cave untouched for it was a hole in the side of a rocky cliff. Now this deserved to be named. It was clearly not touched by anything but the elements. My wings back-beat in an effort to balance my body as I landed; cantered into the cave, my hooves eerily loud against the harsh stone. I shut my wings quickly before the cave narrowed, so as not to rip them off in an ugly mess of red.

I slowed, inhaling swiftly. The air was even purer and cleaner here than anywhere else in Helovia. It was a fine old cave, sides covered in rich, thick moss that crept across the floor, a pool of water formed in the corner from dripping... stalactites or stalagmites? I could never remember. The one hanging downwards anyways. Hesitantly I prod the moss with a hoof; I could do with a soft bed for the falling night. And the cave ends in a few feet anyways- it is not like I will be attacked by rabid bats.

So I circle like a dog, rustling my wings and giving them a good clean, before bending my legs and getting down awkwardly. But the moss is good and thick, and I sigh in relief as my muscles stop their protests. Outside, dark has finally fallen black, the stars spangled. My gaze is slightly obscured, for the entrance is a little narrower than I prefer, and about twenty feet away is the entrance. But until I fall asleep, I watch those stars and remain focus on them.

I think the cave, my roost- wait, no. The hooked mountain should be named 'Stargazer', and so that is what I will call it.

OOC: Discovers an old mountain in the far north near the coast, but still several kilometres in. The mountain's peak is very curved, and if you are imaginative, you can think it is a bit like like a beak- one side has been worn away by wind. On the side sheered and smoothed by the wind, it has become a straight drop-off cliff pocketed with small holes. Svetlana nicknames the mountain 'Stargazer' as she likes to think it is an eagle looking out into the night, and she privately calls the cave 'the Roost', although it's the general mountain that is all that needs to be known.

sometimes i wonder what i'm trying to do in this life.
but mostly i just want to fly.

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