My patience has been rewarded.

Through the sovereignty of day I had suffered, an obsidian stain along the bloody clay of my home. For hours I worked the floor, performing duties I could recite in the deadest of sleeps. I linger in the expanse of open desert underfoot as the sun sinks down past horizons I cannot chase even with the speed of my wings. Its colors change, bleeding its essence out onto sand that takes and holds its color. Soon, my mind croons comfortingly. I perform this ritual nightly, long after I have secured the safety of my brethren through rank that comes through hard work. This is my escape, my utopia. I was weaned off milk and onto starlight, for long after my parents fled I remained under the safe grasp of the night sky that had bled its form straight upon my bodice. Tightly bound body, strict and secure under rigid training, slowly loosens the farther the bringer of light drowns beneath a surface of black. This is the reason I hail from the Throat, this was why I suffered under the power of the Sun God. For everywhere I looked there is nothing but stars, far brighter than can be seen from any other temple of land led by various queens and kings. There are no obstructions, nothing between my body and the sky. Joy fills a small space of my soul as I watch the bursts of energy come to life, filling an ebony expanse with pinpricks of brilliant alabaster. I am their child, the canvas they diligently painted and lovingly breathed life into before letting me descend on feathered appendages down to my parents. Realistically it is not so, but the night sky is my only reprieve from the daily grind of my duties.

I am rewarded nightly, but the wait is sometimes nearly impossible to persist through. This hour is the only moment in which I can free myself from burdens I both cherish and despise. Can loosen up the quiet barrier that keeps me contained and let every fiber burst forth with the exotic rush that comes only from giving in to my nature as a Pegasus. At last it is time, and my still form awakens like a slumbering machine. I am long, tall. My lineage has gifted me with blood of Hanoverians long since used for toil. Proud to belong to such an old breed, as so few care now for what flows in their veins. This height has gifted me with legs that eat up the ground when I command them to. One ivory pillar moves forth, and motion spreads easily throughout the rest of my muscles. Action and reaction until I am moving, led by the flash of a frosted foreleg that cuts through the night like a beacon. Whilst my kin sleep, I aim for the skies. From my back I draw forth the very appendages that allow me to touch heaven, unfurling from where they have rested comfortably against my sides and spine. Gait has quickened, eager to feel the rush of thermal winds through my locks. Rising directly from the desert floor is not impossible, but I am unwilling to stress my body so early. I fear that if I do, I will grow tired far too quickly and have to touch down once more long before I am ready to leave the embrace of the midnight skies. Stygian wings spread outward, as if to stretch to the very ends of my desert home. Warm winds of the desert are cooling now, but they aid in my rise without complaint. I climb higher, nearly vertical as I beat my wings down hard so that the tips nearly mate beneath my hooves. There it is, building, building, building-! And I have broken through the barrier, so that the white noise is empty and all that accompanies me in the swirling of finicky air waves is the familiar whoosh, whoosh of my downbeats and my own breathing. There is complete silence, and as my wings flash out once more to glide over the expanse of my home I know that I have connected once more to the unfinished puzzle piece of the sky. My patterns hide me well, a cobra in the grasses that is seen only through the movement it gives off. It is far colder up here, and my breaths cloud up before my muzzle as I drift along.

I am full of life, of a need to prove that I belong here; that these are my skies, my hour of twilight. I may be a joyous filly up here where I am in control, but I will not let those below think I am such an easy target. For in my blood runs the power of a mare far stronger than they think. Frivolous flying shall not doom my title, and it is now that I shall prove my worth. Such silly thoughts, so unevolved in comparison to the ones that normally take roost in my brain. But I do not need to be logical on this night. A rush takes up my veins, a calling song that I cannot ignore. Wings angle downwards and body follows; a slave to the master of my mind. Down, down, down. I descend, and as I do I pour forth my song. Leveling out only once I am unwilling to go too much farther, for I will not leave the air so easily. I invite my brothers and sisters to come to me, to test my skills on this blackened night. To dance in the still air that leaves me breathless and dizzy with the understanding that I belong here.

[[Summary: Opening Post (1/1)(0/4)(0/1)
W/C: 953
Setting: Midnight in the Dragon's Throat. Clear skies, decent wind, nothing too powerful. Moon is a sliver, less than half. Most light comes from the stars, temperature is warm but slowly dropping as it does in the desert.

4 posts each, 1 defense post. I'd love OOC tidbits if you're up for it (:

Word Limit: <1,000 (Went a bit over 800 so upped it a bit) Good luck to the both of us teehee]]