05-21-2018, 06:00 AM
the secret of our world is written in the stars
The springtime sun gently warms his back, tendrils of sunlight spilling through the soft green of the willow tree’s long vines. He’s dozing, half asleep and half awake, caught in the middle of consciousness, eyelids fluttering. His cerulean gaze catches the sight of the sparkling lake each time they open, crinkled reflections of the sun glittering off its rippling surface. The wind is heavy with the scent of blooming flora that have sprouted throughout Hyaline, of jasmine and gardenia and bright sky. He had heard the call - his young (not so young now) half-sister had come to visit, though when his cerulean gaze flickers to the ever-growing group, the stallion smiles lazily. Kagerus is there, amongst many others, so the Heart decides to continue basking in the springtime sun, thoughts of white feathers and the purple of wisteria clouding his sleepy mind.
Svedka naps for a little while longer, and the sound of his name quietly resounding in the valley causes one single eye to open, a lazy smile on the pink of his lips. He knew she would not leave without finding him, so when he sees her wading in the shallows of the fresh mountain lake, the stallion’s heart pumps with excitement. Stepping out from beneath his willow, pulling the vines away with a push of his nose through the trees, Svedka’s chest rumbles with an audible nicker in her direction.
“Wishbone,” he greets her, blinking hazily as the brisk spring wind pulls at the white and blue locks of his mane and forelock, twisting the red and black hawk feather behind his ear. His bright oceanic blue gaze studies her carefully, noting the ways she had changed since the last time he had saw her. There are slight scarring and bruises (fading fast), as well as newly shaped muscle beneath the mahogony of her skin. The smell of Tephra (the smoke, ash, sulfur) is faded on her skin, though the briny smell of salt and wind still remain. “What adventures have you been on, hm?” He asks her casually, stretching his neck forward to huff gently at the black tendrils of her mane, before lowering his head to take a drink.
Svedka naps for a little while longer, and the sound of his name quietly resounding in the valley causes one single eye to open, a lazy smile on the pink of his lips. He knew she would not leave without finding him, so when he sees her wading in the shallows of the fresh mountain lake, the stallion’s heart pumps with excitement. Stepping out from beneath his willow, pulling the vines away with a push of his nose through the trees, Svedka’s chest rumbles with an audible nicker in her direction.
“Wishbone,” he greets her, blinking hazily as the brisk spring wind pulls at the white and blue locks of his mane and forelock, twisting the red and black hawk feather behind his ear. His bright oceanic blue gaze studies her carefully, noting the ways she had changed since the last time he had saw her. There are slight scarring and bruises (fading fast), as well as newly shaped muscle beneath the mahogony of her skin. The smell of Tephra (the smoke, ash, sulfur) is faded on her skin, though the briny smell of salt and wind still remain. “What adventures have you been on, hm?” He asks her casually, stretching his neck forward to huff gently at the black tendrils of her mane, before lowering his head to take a drink.
(be my escape)
Svedka
@[Wishbone]