04-21-2018, 02:02 PM
The journey from the field to the sandy shores of the canal that leads to Ischia goes quickly as Tyrinn and I chatter absently through the hours. Our complimentary colours match the changing of the season, golden and red as the leaves that litter our path. But as we draw up to the shore, such autumn things fall behind us, for the tropical kingdom of Ischia is stuck in perpetual summer.
“The tide is lowering, if you don’t mind a little swim in the middle.”
When he agrees to surge ahead (for a stallion as powerful and proud as him would never turn such an easy task down), I follow and eventually find myself ahead of the other. The warm water comes up to my neck and before long the bottom drops out from beneath me completely; snorting and spraying water with the breath, my legs and my wings work at the waters, pushing me ahead quickly until the bottom returns beneath me.
Sodden and heavy, I drag myself up the beach and distance myself a little from Tyrinn. Spreading my stance, I unfold my alabaster wings and shake out my whole body like a dog would, water droplets flying maniacally. Immediately I feel lighter and more myself. Springing a little too jauntily back to the wine splashed man (I am still a yearling after all, and therefore allowed some teenager antics), I come up beside him and give him a grin.
“It shouldn’t be long before someone’s here to greet you! We’ve many winged members, and they do an excellent job of scouting the borders.”
@[Tyrinn] phone post!!!
“The tide is lowering, if you don’t mind a little swim in the middle.”
When he agrees to surge ahead (for a stallion as powerful and proud as him would never turn such an easy task down), I follow and eventually find myself ahead of the other. The warm water comes up to my neck and before long the bottom drops out from beneath me completely; snorting and spraying water with the breath, my legs and my wings work at the waters, pushing me ahead quickly until the bottom returns beneath me.
Sodden and heavy, I drag myself up the beach and distance myself a little from Tyrinn. Spreading my stance, I unfold my alabaster wings and shake out my whole body like a dog would, water droplets flying maniacally. Immediately I feel lighter and more myself. Springing a little too jauntily back to the wine splashed man (I am still a yearling after all, and therefore allowed some teenager antics), I come up beside him and give him a grin.
“It shouldn’t be long before someone’s here to greet you! We’ve many winged members, and they do an excellent job of scouting the borders.”
@[Tyrinn] phone post!!!
