12-07-2020, 07:08 PM
stifled the choice and the air in my lungs;
better not to breathe than to breathe a lie
Tiercel isn’t sure why, but he lingers in Loess. He has spent enough time wandering in the past years; quite frankly, he’s grown bored of mindlessly drifting from one tuft of grass to the next. The does and badgers have been his friends for long enough, but they make poor conversationalists. When he had first made his way into his old home, Tiercel had wondered if the ghosts of his childhood would walk with him. He had carried the weight of their shadows since cleaving himself from his family’s legacy (an ironic concept — to feel heavy when one should feel lighter from severing the ties).
As he bathes in a warm saltwater spring, Tiercel realizes that he has not been plagued by the memories of his youth. He can recall only one experience where he had contemplated those days, but it had been his choice to drift through the memories. Since then — since Oceane had sought out his parentage from within his navy face — he has drifted through Loess like a feather upon a western breeze. It is as if Loess has gathered those tightly-bound memories and hidden them among the red rocks and cacti, rescuing Tiercel from those thoughts that disturbed him for so long.
The sun warms the parts of him that lie above the water’s surface. Dark blue withers linger just above the clear water, where his bi-colored mane follows the ebb and flow of his movements. Tiercel positions himself comfortably, wedged against a few smooth underwater rocks so he can relax his muscles. As his pale eyes slide closed, Tiercel gathers there is no need to craft emotions for the content he feels during the sunny afternoon.
As he bathes in a warm saltwater spring, Tiercel realizes that he has not been plagued by the memories of his youth. He can recall only one experience where he had contemplated those days, but it had been his choice to drift through the memories. Since then — since Oceane had sought out his parentage from within his navy face — he has drifted through Loess like a feather upon a western breeze. It is as if Loess has gathered those tightly-bound memories and hidden them among the red rocks and cacti, rescuing Tiercel from those thoughts that disturbed him for so long.
The sun warms the parts of him that lie above the water’s surface. Dark blue withers linger just above the clear water, where his bi-colored mane follows the ebb and flow of his movements. Tiercel positions himself comfortably, wedged against a few smooth underwater rocks so he can relax his muscles. As his pale eyes slide closed, Tiercel gathers there is no need to craft emotions for the content he feels during the sunny afternoon.
tiercel.
@[Islas]