06-21-2016, 07:03 PM
One of the places I have not yet visited is the Deserts, and I should have much sooner. I don't know whether my old friends still live there, but I have been remiss in not seeking them out. Vanquish and Yael have been dear to me for a very long time, and I...I didn't even say goodbye before I left. I couldn't, too shattered and molten and desperate to get away that there was no looking back, no drawn-out farewells.
I hope they understood, and that they still think of me fondly, if they think of me at all.
I could fly in as a dragon; it would hardly be the first time dragon wings took to desert skies. Instead, I find myself walking in my spotted yellow mare shape, all muscle and feathering and riotous tangle of hair bulking out an already drafty frame. Oh, nowhere near the height of my sons, all of whom but one tower over me. But I am comparable in breadth to the largest of them, strength written in every line and curve of this form.
It is not, to be honest, one I spend much time in these days. I tend toward my favorite bold blue male form instead, the once-black points now silver in honor of my long-dead brother. Still, female feels right today, as I approach what once was home. So I approach on foot, the substantial weight of my hooves sinking slightly into the sand as I walk. And when I reach the kingdom's border, I call out for the friends I left behind so long ago, or anyone who might know of their whereabouts. A deep, throaty neigh echoes out across the sand, announcing my presence. And then I wait.
I hope they understood, and that they still think of me fondly, if they think of me at all.
I could fly in as a dragon; it would hardly be the first time dragon wings took to desert skies. Instead, I find myself walking in my spotted yellow mare shape, all muscle and feathering and riotous tangle of hair bulking out an already drafty frame. Oh, nowhere near the height of my sons, all of whom but one tower over me. But I am comparable in breadth to the largest of them, strength written in every line and curve of this form.
It is not, to be honest, one I spend much time in these days. I tend toward my favorite bold blue male form instead, the once-black points now silver in honor of my long-dead brother. Still, female feels right today, as I approach what once was home. So I approach on foot, the substantial weight of my hooves sinking slightly into the sand as I walk. And when I reach the kingdom's border, I call out for the friends I left behind so long ago, or anyone who might know of their whereabouts. A deep, throaty neigh echoes out across the sand, announcing my presence. And then I wait.