07-07-2015, 12:54 AM
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I'LL SAY "YOU HAVEN'T MET ME, I AM THE ONLY SON." He slowly blinks sleep-entrusted eyes open and he releases a hard groan while rolling upright and pulling his limbs beneath him. Munroe vigorously shakes his head and surveys his immediate surroundings blearily. He’s lying beneath what few trees could be found growing around the small oasis. This is familiar; this is home. He last remembers trailing far behind Ima and her new winged child and then a sudden blackness. He strains to remember what happened in the events between him blacking out and then waking up here. But he does not recall much of anything. Just flashes of extreme agony and hopelessness and eventually abandonment. But these feelings had gradually given way to a shining new hope. Munroe wonders if perhaps he had only experienced a nightmare after unintentionally falling asleep. He didn’t know how else he could explain such an occurrence. Briefly struggling with stiff limbs (though not as stiff and unbendable as they once had been), he finally gains his feet and makes his way slowly to the small body of water. He feels bone tired, both mentally and physically, even after what had to have been a long rest. Lowering his head, he thirstily takes in large gulps of water. He opens his eyes and remains looking at his reflection in stark horror. How could this have come to be? What was usually a sandy cream coat color had given way to a delicate seafoam green. His hazel eyes were now framed by an azure blue-streaked black forelock. Munroe remained in wide-eyed abject confusion; baffled by his extreme appearance change. MUNROE -- and now I am sure my heart can never be still |