06-24-2017, 08:43 AM
While her mother grazes happily across the way, Olea cannot help but wander. She follows a few moths around the bend, disappearing into the shadows of a small thin forest. The sunlight dapples the grassy ground and the aspen’s quake peacefully overhead. It is easy for Olea to find herself further than she intended, but the good news was that she found an entire patch of gigantic trumpet vines gripping the rocks and skeletons of long dead trees. YUM! She unfurls her curled moth-tongue and sips joyfully at the centers of the trumpeted blooms of all colors, yellow, orange, red, purple, white, peachy, all kinds! Some even bigger than her head.
When she finally stops to look around she does not recognize anything. Just beyond there are a bunch of children and the familiar sylphs that are always floating and lurking around Beqanna. Olea has never approached a faerie, not would she, as her mother says – they can be very nice, but they can also be very cruel. Leave them be. But here, just before her eyes, they’re caring for the sickly, abandoned, lonely children. Her heart sinks with pity, but just then a colt begins to trot by.
“Hello there!” Olea’s voice is so silky and sweet, much unlike her mother’s. Her large eyes tipped to the stranger, a smile on her rosy little lips. “I’m Oleandar…” She steps forward shyly, unsure of how he may react to her. “Do you live here?” In other words…are you an orphan?
When she finally stops to look around she does not recognize anything. Just beyond there are a bunch of children and the familiar sylphs that are always floating and lurking around Beqanna. Olea has never approached a faerie, not would she, as her mother says – they can be very nice, but they can also be very cruel. Leave them be. But here, just before her eyes, they’re caring for the sickly, abandoned, lonely children. Her heart sinks with pity, but just then a colt begins to trot by.
“Hello there!” Olea’s voice is so silky and sweet, much unlike her mother’s. Her large eyes tipped to the stranger, a smile on her rosy little lips. “I’m Oleandar…” She steps forward shyly, unsure of how he may react to her. “Do you live here?” In other words…are you an orphan?
Oleandar
the moth-child of elysium & city
@[Vento]
<33
City will come along in a few posts