Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE |
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Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc
Riven |
06-13-2013, 04:13 AM
(This post was last modified: 06-13-2013, 04:46 AM by Africa.)
![[Image: 515b833f251f3]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/515b833f251f3)
Look down
The ground below is crumbling
Look up
The stars are all exploding
Towards the eastern edge of the oasis, where burnt-red sand dunes rolled lazily beneath the mild Frostfall sun, a rough limestone cliff reached towards the sky. Its ginger face peered everlastingly upon the desert’s core; the lavish heart whose sweet, healthful waters allowed all manner of exotic life to thrive and prosper. By the foot of the cliff, a jagged outcrop of weathered, windblown rock was hollowed enough to offer shade and shelter to any who dared venture from the comforts of their desert sanctuary. It was there that a keen young explorer had built for herself a crude nest, buried well beneath an overhang whose casual slump offered protection from the normally harsh western front. The space was narrow and tight inside; though just large enough to accommodate the awkward turning of a large winged horse’s cumbersome frame. Where light seeped through faults and fissures in the ancient walls, air too leaked to flood the little cavern abode.
It had been many moons since the owner had visited to tend her bed. Dead, dying and wilted flowers were strewn hither and thither around the skirting- once fresh garnishes, to appease a botanist mind; and similarly an untidy scattering of smooth and unusually shaped stones filled much of the space which remained. Just off centre, sank a shallow impression, evidence of a physical bulk’s frequent resting. And lining it’s sloppy, sandy base was a mattress of sorts, crafted from long crushed tendrils of straw-like grass- the longest she had been able to find during numerous journeys and adventures throughout the vast wilderness’ of Helovia.
Cast in thick shadow, snug beneath the rear wall, there was a peculiar bulge in the floor where two treasures had been brazenly stashed for safe keeping. One of the concealed things was only just larger than a horse’s eye, with a smooth surface all the way around; it was polished dark olive green in colour, perhaps reflecting the cold, dark cave which had been its dwelling for however long. Its purpose remained unknown, its keeper had not returned to find out, and it lay almost invisible, abandoned for now- though not at all forgotten.
The other article there, unmistakably an egg, had been planted while warmth lingered in the sands of the arid region- where even the winter sun shed tirelessly its heat into any idle surface who basked willingly or not. She thought perhaps two things; that it would be safe, most importantly, from coveting eyes or predators hungry for an easy meal. Also, that it might be incubated and comfortable there, close by so that she could tend and nurture it while subconsciously, inconceivable fondness grew steadily within her oblivious heart.
Alas, the explorer had met with foul play, and for now her little secret residence lay deserted and lifeless.
Except...
By the unhindered light under the first full moon of Frostfall, the egg began to twitch and rock ever so subtly, backwards and forwards. The sand encompassing it began to shift and slip away, so that the cool, round shell became exposed. With naught but the cold night’s breeze to witness the miracle, a tiny hole was chipped into its side from the inside out- pipping had begun. Over many gruelling hours the baby bird whittled an opening, pausing regularly to rest and sleep. Just past the hour of midnight it finally flopped forward into the grainy sand, free from its delicate cover. Immediately and driven by instinct, the sodden creature began to feast on the yolk which was strung from the egg, still clinging to his petite, frail frame. That first meal would be perhaps the most nourishing of his life. It would offer him strength enough to see out the remaining lonesome night, until he could emerge at last from the den and soak himself beneath the soothing rays of morning to follow.
And so, quite indulged and overcome by fatigue, he slept.
Only when the sun was high and well beyond the lofty crags of the deep canyons further east, did the newborn Zephyr leave his nest. For a long while he dried himself properly, fluffing the insulating down across his breast and beneath his wings; preening the caked, left over afterbirth from long extravagant feathers- which soon shone as lustrous black-blue, tipped with vivid purple. Already prideful, he did not rest until completely satisfied that his presentation was nothing short of impeccable and only then did he begin to flutter and try out his strength. Flight did not come easily, and it took many failed, but dogged attempts to finally figure the art form out. It was lucky that his home was soft and supple; that each mortifying crash was cushioned by the yielding sandy substrate. In time though, it became easier and soon enough the Zephyr was able to ascend into the safety of an evergreen tree growing by the very brim of the oasis. There he felt safe and slept soundly once more until late afternoon.
A longing stirred within his soul, and that was what woke him. It wasn’t hunger, nor was it thirst. Instead a potent loneliness; uncertainty and grief sullied his infant heart, and he became restless and fidgety as he stretched in the tree, watching an alien world shift and change below him. As evening drew close around him, and the coolness of night began to whisper through his sleek dark feathers, the Zephyr took flight, drawing high into the openness of the glittery star-filled sky. Compelled by some invisible, inevitable energy, he hastened north with no thought of the place he left behind.
Continued...
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Table Header credits go to baylee.
Pegasus icon lineart credits go to Tamme.
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[P] Born of myth and shadow [Hatching]
