One may wonder how you could spend YEARS in the sky. Moving from cloud to cloud. Observing the simple land-born creatures from the endless skies. Oh how they must envy them. Those blessed with flight.
When the lavender stallion had left Beqanna he had little intentions of returning. Knowing only his father's name Kirin- mother had said they were identical in everyway - and when he had set out to find him, his search came up empty. Disappointed he stayed in his clouds. Calling the very top of the mountain home. A place to rest his wings.
Solitude was dull though and he grew bored. Taking to the skies again he flew higher than most dared. The air was thinner which meant more work. Accustomed to it now it only caused him to be stronger. Muscles flexed under taut lavender hide with each stroke of feathered wing. Matching lavender mane and tail streamed behind him. Hazel eyes watching for anything of interest happening below.
Not much peeked his interest enough to render him to return to the lands. Usually only those with the ability of flight intruiged him. So when his eyes follow a bright creature with matching wings - falling much too quickly from the skies - he decides to follow. Tucking his feather appendages to his barrel he drops quickly from the atmosphere. His eyes fixed on the other, now scraping across a pine. Their landing lacking grace. He smirks.
His approach to earth is quick. Just at the right moment he spreads his feathers to grasp the air. Bringing him to land smoothly nearby. Eyes looking around as he collects his legs under him and steps towards the... others. A dark, larger equine stalks not far off. Soon nearing the same bright creature he was. The stallions voice is deep as he questions the cream mare. Lavender ears perk forward as he had halted movement to gauge the situation. The mare seeming perturbed about the pine sap clinging to her body. Thinking for only a moment before stepping forwards again. Drawing nearer to the cream and white mare.
His voice is hoarse from lack of use but it clears smoothly, "Here... Allow me." His muzzle extends to the sticky patch on her coat. The pink flesh that is his tongue glides over the area a time or two until the sap dissipates. Lacking proper socialization he doesn't realize that perhaps licking a stranger was an improper introduction... Or does he...?
Pulling away from her and a step to the side he looks to the dark stallion. Much larger in overall size where he was tall and lean. Their colors contrasted as much as night and day. Shuffling his wings at his sides he looks back to the mare, "We should work on your landing." A smirk forming on his maw.
