J E R I C H O
a hero is born from a soul that's forgotten
Jericho had never been good at flying.
But today, having wandered alone into one of the most beautiful places he'd ever seen, the young stallion thought he might give it a shot. The wide open fields that were beyond even the clouds reminded him of his home in Janat, but beauty alone could not erase the ugly memories of his homeland. He was glad to be away from the hateful Pegasus he'd looked up to as his family, save for his mother, who had loved him despite his dark coat and lack of another pair of wings...
Shaking those thoughts away, the Thoroughbred focused on what lie ahead of him. It was a wide open field, free of any hazardous obstacles that might get in his way. It was strange that a Pegasus such as himself would be so unskilled in the art of flying, and one might be confused to learn that he had walked the whole way here. While he did not mind the feet beneath his ground in the least, he tried his best to avoid all other Pegasus in fear of ridicule. Today, though... He would try and cure himself of his lack of skill.
"Alright, Jericho, you can do this!" The black dun tried to reassure himself, and lifted his head high as he examined the wide open space before him. Pulling his wings away from his sides, the stallion spread them, taking a deep breath before taking off into a dead run. Ever so hesitantly, and only when he felt the time was right, did he sweep the tri-colored wings downwards to pull himself up into the air. His hooves left the ground and increased in distance within seconds. A brief look down, and a great discomfort settled in the stallion's chest. Never had he been taught the proper mechanics of flight; he had learned everything he knew by trial and error, but repeated failures had rendered the dun admittedly afraid of the whole idea of flight.
Still, he tried whenever he could, whenever he found himself alone without prying eyes.
"I'm... actually doing it?" He asked in his head, and just as the smallest of grins began to pull at his lips, the warmest of spring breeze's blew, catching the young Pegasus by surprise and breaking his focus. In a panic, his wings flapped to try and keep himself airbourne, but it only aided in his ultimate demise. In seconds he was hurdling towards the ground, which really wasn't that far away, and crashed into it with a loud thump. A groan sounded from the dun, and although achy, he lifted his head to give a dramatic huff. His wings lay splayed out at his sides in defeat. "I thought I was doing good," the Pegasus murmured to himself, his pride hurt more than anything else.
Pulling his feathered wings back in to his sides, Jericho got back up to his feet and gave a shake of his body, riding himself of the dirt that had collected as a result of the crash. Would he try again? Or would he simply give up for today and head home?
![[Image: Jericho-1.png]](http://i1308.photobucket.com/albums/s609/camaroblues/Jericho-1.png)
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