Heat has been tamped down by the firm dominance of the wetter months. Frostfall approaches, a season many dread. When the sands are hard and frigid, the oasis a sharp explosion of ice upon the palette of parched inhabitants. Flat lands herald no protection against the cutting winds, and the already chilly nights of spring and late summer drop in temperature so fiercely that sleeping alone is similar to a death wish. This season is entirely unpleasant to the pale yearling that crosses the sand like a traveler with no path, and yet thankfully not yet weary enough for discouragement to break his youthful stride. Yet the time he envisions is merely within his mind, approaching it may be, and for now he is surrounded by dampness and hesitant dark shoots that reach for a bleak ray of sunshine that wanders towards it teasingly. Skies are a mix of dark heather and weak swirls of azure that try to remind those below that sunny days had once existed. It is odd how those who complain over the heat of the desert, often complain just as much about the colder months when they come. Of course very little of these thoughts, all tucked up in the mind of the yearling we compared to a traveler, actually influence him directly.

It is a rather pleasant day, brisk but not showing risk of showers despite the sleet shade of the sky. In fact it is nearly perfect, and all worry over the frost that will soon come vanishes when a delightful breeze touched his face and ruffled his dual toned locks. How can he resist when the sky beckons so beautifully? Father has left for his morning patrol, and the day stretches out ahead of him like a dull beige road made of sand. Pretty Fina is at his side as always, though she drifts overhead like a calm sentinel. He adores her, and almost wished he could tell her how much he loved her through words. Even so, he believed the proud, fiery predator knew regardless. With youth and energy to spare, flying is something that beckons to him like a gorgeous siren, a temptress with locks of sapphire and skin of ivory, a seductress personifying the ocean of stillness high above and the clouds that leave shadows deep below. Such a simple ritual, and yet the only challenge is how long he can resist the pull of the heavens. Though the odd trio always finds something somewhat new to do each day, it is rather dull at times as they await the end of the golden father's work day.

Today, there is nothing keeping Cera down. As he rises, he leaves behind the worries and fears that plague him far down on the earth. Powerful downstrokes lift light frame heavenward, coasting along the currents he had once been unable to feel. There is no recklessness that drives him into tempting the currents, merely exhilaration. In the beginning, he had been distrustful of the wind and its fickle ways. Where he was now, Cera knew his body and instincts well enough to do this with his eyes closed. Somehow his surroundings and his body became one, and so a yearling of course must dance near danger at least a few hundred times before they are satisfied. So he climbs and climbs, knowing Ilaria is safe in their tree at home. She is sensitive to temperature, but is more concerned with not getting sick or falling off while Cera does his acrobatics. He dips in a vertical dive headlong towards the ground, slowly beginning to spin, and rolling back to a horizontal plane without stopping the motion of his body. He free falls and spirals until his laughter is snatched by the wind and his stress, little as it may have been that morning, melts away under the all-knowing hands of the air that surrounds him.

Fina is who gives him the first clue, soft sound issuing from her beak and fiery irises turning towards the oasis. Again she eyes him, and Cera levels out, ears pricking in alertness for whatever it is she can hear that he cannot. It comes moments later, a strong timbre that echoes out like silk thunder over the land and into the sky. Midas? What was he doing back from his patrol?

Concern grips the youth, and emeralds pinch at the edges in worry. Yet, there seemed to be only a relaxed tone in his summons, even happiness. Glancing at his guardian angel cloaked in carmine and tangerine like a moving ember, he is comforted further by the calmness she exudes. Midas is not in danger, at least. Like an arrow he pierces through the resistance opposing winds bring him, a swift sparrow that is undeterred by harsh conditions, for it is small and fleet and cuts through the tiny areas until there is nothing to hold it back. Pale mottled wings that are slowly growing towards ivory as he ages embrace every inch that they can, and the span only aids him in the speed he pushes towards reaching Midas. Fear and concern do not gently test his muscles in this fashion, but eagerness and curiosity that even as a yearling he is unable to see himself outgrowing. A child at heart with a heart as pure as the gold his father attracted and molded so very well. Maybe that was why they fit so perfectly.

The obsidian splashes give him away, the pale of his wings and the gold that accentuates every inch of him in some manner. Again Cera lets himself fall, as if he is a frightened bird that is too frozen to move its wings and fly. He descends long before he is overhead of Midas, smile wide as he measures how much length he has to use in his landing. Though it is a smooth one, the flair of daring that children test out as they grow is dreadfully obvious. Lanky limbs gouge the sand, haunches pushed low and head tucking gracefully towards his jugular. Wings tilt, become vertical parachutes, and soon he is jogging up to Midas with a large, almost catty grin on his face that grows another angle every week as the tiny strips of baby fat he'd had on his tiny frame melt away into adolescence. Crown turns to find Fina, always aware of where she is regardless of the fact they are not bonded. Once he spots her, he extends his soft beige muzzle to the dark onyx he knows so well. Brushing, greeting, exchanging scents. Joy and the thrill of an adrenaline rush crack and sparkle like tiny explosive firecrackers in his eyes, but there is a tsunami of lover that is always visible when looking at his father.

Yet, he is still curious as to why Midas has most of the day off. Crown tilts in a rather childish fashion, eyeing him carefully despite already knowing he was not injured. Call it habit. "Dad, why are you back so early? Can you spend time with us today?" Hope makes his face glow brighter than the sun that bakes the Throat in Tallsun, jumping to conclusions but always secretly hoping and wishing that Midas would spend more time with him. Of course he used 'us' because Fina and Ilaria were just as important, just as real, as he was. So excited by this possible prospect is he that alabaster stockinged legs dance in the sand, the only uniform thing on his coat. Plume flicks and wings shuffle, hoping not to be shot down with the arrow of denial, yet impossibly tempted and encouraged by the relaxed, eager expression that flares in goldenrod irises and sharpens the angles of his features in a pleasant way. Would today be one of the very rare, infinitely precious days in which it was just he and Midas? With no Ktulu, or duties, or even Hototo? Well, no, that was a lie. Cera would welcome Hototo any day, but traveling to the Foothills was a real pain when Midas only went to see a lass Cera hardly even knew! But today was no day for frustration, he had left those emotions behind when he had stretched himself, and only his anticipating expression remained as he awaited the answer that would cause either great joy or great disappointment.

A flaming trail of pumpkin and carmine streaks the sky as Fina rushes to my father’s side. She is delighted to see him; I know this, even if she tries to act aloof. The phoenix is a bird of fire, the symbol for passion, determination, and fight. It is in her nature to love so fiercely, but also to be too proud to show it often. I love her dearly. She is, to me, multiple things; sister, mother, protector, friend, and partner. I have spoken of this to Hototo, and know in my heart that he understands. After all, he feels the same way about Bear, does he not? Though, it is hard for me to call him Eytan, when Hototo’s example is the one I always follow. Aside from my father of course. I watch as Fina goes soaring down, perching upon my father’s back, sharing his gaze. I smile, for I understand the closeness they are experiencing. As if knowing whom I speak of, Ilaria clutches my ivory portioned mane and gives a soft sound that is lost in my landing, and it’s a loving push-pull of emotion tugging between us through our bond. I feel her all the same, a constant loving presence in my mind that cannot and will not be ignored. We are like two enclosed dandelion seeds, dancing and swirling where the wind may take us, forever united, and yet gifted from the same flower. Every day I thank my Lord that he gave her to me, that she is with me every sunrise and sunset. Seeing the love and concern in Midas’ turned brow I know he feels the same.

They share a kiss, muzzle to beak, and though he speaks I cannot discern what he says. Even so I feel as if his loving timbre is within my mind, for I know it so well. Words he has never spoken can take on his voice inside my thoughts, a closeness gained only from being so close for seasons upon seasons. I am growing older now, I know it. Not only within my mind, but without. My body is no longer accepting that I wish to stay small, cuddled against my father’s side, forever. My legs seem to grow- imagine this- impossibly longer. Had they not been like the legs of a heron before?! I am sprouting upwards past my father, and it brings a strange sense of melancholy to me whenever I notice it. Hototo and I seem to be engaged in a race to see who can reach the sky the fastest, but where he is gaining mass I am not. I have long stopped being jealous of my handsome brother, and now I understand that where he is powerful, I am fast and nimble. The skies tug my body around and around in the grasp of the wind, a delightful playtoy I love to become. I am born of cirrus clouds and hurricane winds, and Hototo is born of tree roots and boulders. In the future I would become aware of just how accurate this comparison is, but for now I only see us as the perfect mix of earth and heaven.

Two pairs of eyes turn to me and suddenly I am shy, outgoing demeanor shifting with boyish quality into a sheepish smile. Two of the most important people in my lives gazing at me, and suddenly I am overwhelmed. The bitter thought that it may be because I rarely see Midas is fiercely stomped upon, merely glad to be with him this afternoon. For whatever reason, as I have yet to be answered. Even in my excited dancing, hoping for something that may not come, I feel sad. The only company I have comes from Hototo and Ranjiri, and I see them so rarely it hurts. Together, father and I share breaths. It is enough, for now, to wash away the ache that always starts up when I have been away far too long from my heartsiblings. He smells of pine and smoke, perhaps from Fina, with a hint of dust and desert flowers. Sweat is bypassed by the both of us, for we labor beneath the sun every day, and are no longer sensitive to such a scent. How can we when it lingers upon our coats no matter how many times we bathe? It is just as part of the Throat as the crimson sands are- something that unites us all.

It is so natural to say ‘us’ when I inquire if he can give his time. How are we not, after all? I, Fina, and Ilaria create a team, and without Fina I feel as if I am without an important limb, phantom pains and old habits surfacing in her absence. There may be no godly bond to connect us, but we understand each other in the same manner as Ilaria and I. But my thoughts can’t linger on how strange it is for my avian firesister not to perch upon my skin, for my father’s wings are stretching and elongating, and an answer lingers- I just know it- upon his dark lips. Sure enough he is gazing down upon me, and I am saddened to see the angle is decreasing seemingly with every dawn. I do not want to embrace adolescence or adulthood. I want to stay pressed against my father’s side, listening to his heartbeat and hiding behind him whenever I’m unsure or frightened. Now, there is no way I can cower behind him when soon I will tower above him. It only reminds me that I’m not his blood child, a thought that stabs my heart every time it flickers insidiously through my sanctified haven of musings. Loving nickname shatters this pain, and not only am I informed my dad can spend a few hours at my side, but that we have two days all to ourselves.

Anticipatory dancing is nothing compared to my reaction when blessed with this amazing news. Ilaria and I create quite a racket, trumpeting and whinnying, growling and yipping while I jump and dance in sharp, dizzying circles around my father’s form. I don’t know if any real words fall from my tongue, but I couldn’t care if I was ordered to. Almost deliriously, I’m happy. My sharp emeralds are surely as bright as the sun overhead by now when I finally pause to listen to the rest of what he has to say, Fina chirruping sweetly as the perfect end to his promise. Ilaria is upon my forehead by now, fluffy tail flickering at speeds rarely achieved in her enthusiasm. It knocks against each of my ears, throwing my mane into static and disrupting the locks, but we are both too excited to notice or care. Suddenly I’m at a loss of where to go, blown away simply by the ability to spend time with my father, just he and I. Lately when we do come together; it’s with Ranjiri, Hototo, and Ktulu, or a mix of the three. Being unable to talk with him, tell him my thoughts and feelings, only made being around him during those visits worse. A love that is so close, but cannot be touched. I would see him there, smiling and familiar, and be unable to approach him in the manner I wanted to. Again my face falls, I can feel it, and I force myself to brighten once more. It is such a wonderful opportunity! Why should I fill it with sadness and bitter quips?

But again, where to go? My own wings are lifted high, extended in their massive span, ready to sweep down in a moment’s notice. "I don’t care! The ocean? The meadows? The heart?" I’m dancing away, swaying over the sand like a wind-tousled reed. I giggle softly as I imagine the thin, tall groups I’d seen around the oasis. Maybe I really was. "I don’t care, let’s just go!" And that is my own personal, self-stated start signal. With less than three strides I am shoving my wings towards the earth, and the lack of speed isn’t helpful, but I have seen Midas rise without a step from the ground, and I know I can something similar. Sure enough, though my wingtips kiss the ground rather heavily in their length, I am free once more. Every time my hooves leave the earth, I feel as if invisible shackles have suddenly burst free of my ankles, thrusting me into an environment where I can be myself and only myself. Here, embraced by gentle breezes and warm currents, I am just…Cera. No other names, responsibilities, or experiences attached. I’m just a body, a name, and a heart that pounds to the time of my wingbeats. Once I am level I turn my head, searching for Midas, wishing to drift close to him in the cradle of the sky so that we may share words over the stroke of our wings and the rush of the wind in our ears. Ilaria has retreated to my shoulders, the speed of the wind from my forehead too much for her, but I know the earthling has slowly grown just as fond of flying as I am.

There is nothing that can taint my joy in this moment.

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WC: 1,550
Note: So sorry for the delay ;~; also, slowly moving my Cera posts into First Person. What do you think?? I love both so gimme your opinion~
Inspiration: Adele's "Set Fire to the Rain" and Marina and the Diamonds' "Teen Idle"

At times, I sigh silently within my mind when I see how reluctant my father is to loosen up and embrace a simple day of relaxation. How old I feel; with how much I've been sighing and staring silently into space, I'll surely drive myself into an early grave. The desert that I once considered my perfect home no longer brought joy, and I feared that I was losing any chance at friendship I could have had. The ticking of a clock had taken up residence in my head, counting down to an event I knew neared, but had no clue as to what it would be. I felt as if my life was wasting away in endless hours of sun and sky, doing nothing of value, floating along until something disrupted my path for me. Was I worth anything, truly? I had no job other than apprenticing beneath the kind Sohalia, and I rarely saw my own family. Why was it that, at last, I had been given everything I had ever wished for, and yet they were held so distant from me? I longed for Hototo's sweet awkwardness, his support and understanding. Ranjiri's adorable antics, her loyal love for myself and my princely brother. Even Father was distant now, consumed by a world I could not enter, stuck in a place I could not reach him. How long until I could no longer deny that I was sheltering a deep bitter resentment towards the life I lived? For so long I'd ignored it, willing it into the dark recesses of my mind, refusing to feel so negative when I had been taken in and loved so wholly.

By the time I shake away the sorrowful stare I can feel dripping down my features, Father has joined me free from the earth. So many places to choose from, and yet the compass of my heart pointed towards the two most important beings in my life. Already I was instinctively pointing north, yearning to be with them once more. It was agonizing, but I swallowed down a lump of longing and focused instead on my father's words. Smiling in return, only to have it drop in shock as his wing brushed against mine, pointing me back down toward our Lord's domain. Panic did not set in. I was a child of the heavens, and instinct took hold long before any fear could. For why should I be afraid, when this was the one place I was safest? Going with the motion I let my left wing tip down until the longest of my feathers were pointing like daggers towards the sand below. I dropped in altitude sharply, curling myself inward so that I dropped speedily beneath my father's hooves, unharmed with how quickly I had dropped. Unfurling my appendages once more I swung out to his left, rocking so that my wings took separate turns deciding which would be higher. Once I had settled horizontally once more, I grinned mischievously up at my father, more than willing to play along with this.

Heavy wingbeats pushed me higher, catching the wind he sailed upon and rising back to his level. Playfully I called out to him, nicker lost on the wind as I reached out with my right wing, hoping to catch my father's hindquarters and the end of his wing where it met his body. Ilaria was extremely unhappy with this new game, having to cling tight enough to pierce my skin with her nails whenever I caught myself in a roll. Laughing out loud, I climbed higher and higher, as if daring my father to chase me to the break where the clouds were beneath us even on stormy days. Sunlight bounced joyfully off the paling color of my feathers, turning lighter with every fortnight. It was as if every molecule of my being was celebrating this beautiful day and the rare opportunity to be with my dad that came along with it.

Overhead I swirled in small circles and dropped a few feet, only to climb higher once more. Arching up and plunging towards earth headfirst like a swimmer jumping up and diving into a pool. Whether father followed us or not, I was able to occupy and enjoy myself quite thoroughly knowing he was simply there. My eyes search for Fina on instinct and habit, wanting my avian sister to join me in my play. Our play, I reminded myself, still not used to my father's presence no matter how happy it made me. Ilaria was hissing unhappily through our bond, but her frustration and fear was dulled by her relief that I was happy and having fun. I embraced the azure ceiling joyfully, perhaps with more than usual now that my father could share the skies with me instead of only Fina and my thoughts.

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OOC: gah this is so so so terrible, but I wanted to get this up for you ;___; let me send you a thousand apologies now