06-14-2018, 09:00 AM
the secret of our world is written in the stars
The last time he had been in the Riverlands, snow and ice had covered the ground while a heavy mist clung to the evergreens and stone. Now, as the days grow shorter and the flowers bloom from summer’s plenty, he finds himself traversing the same riverside once again. A fresh rainfall gives the earth beneath his hooves a soft, damp feeling that moistens his fetlocks, the rainwater desperately clinging to each blade of grass and sliver of bark. For a moment, he halts; blue eyes stare into the horizon, remembering the way from whence she had came nearly two seasons ago. With a soft snort, the heat of the day plastering strands of ivory and blue to his milk-and-honey neck the stallion sets off again, keenly focused on following the winding river that will hopefully lead him to his destination.
The river finally ends, its great mouth opening up into the sea that stretches before him endlessly. The ocean did not daunt him; he is a child born from the salted waves and though his home now is surrounded by mountains, he does not forget where he came from. His cerulean gaze flickers across the sparkling horizon, the dark churning waters of the ocean wrinkling like skin beneath the sun’s warm light. The Ischian islands are wavering in the far distance and a smile begins to curl onto his pale rose lips. With a toss of his head, he enters the pull of the ocean’s waves and begins the swim.
Svedka is a rather experienced and skillful swimmer; nearly all his days in Hyaline are spent with a few hours in the lake, or traveling to the mountainside where the ocean meets his home and swimming through stronger currents. It leaves his body toned and muscled as well as gifting him with the knowledge to go with the current; to not fight the waves but become a part of them. He uses this knowledge now, floating when needed and then propelling himself forward. His wistful gaze remains on the outcropping of the islands which grow larger with every stroke, nostrils flaring with exertion but a breathless smile found on his face that never seems to fade.
Later, he thinks mildly to himself, Solace will chide him for attempting to swim across the channel without first seeing whether the tide was going in or out. He hadn’t cared to check, and even now as he swims it does not cross his mind that perhaps he will tire before finding purchase on Ischia’s sandy lagoons. Water crashes over his head and moves him mercilessly, but with each breath he inhales there is nearly a laugh on his lips, despite the stinging that has begun to annoy his nostrils and bring a red color to his eyes.
It is not until he is nearly upon Ischia that his brow furrows with contemplation, the burning feeling in his lungs beginning to perturb him. He kept the island in his sights, and his breath no longer came slow and steady but now is ragged and pulsating as he attempts to keep himself afloat. The closer he came to shore, the stronger the currents became as corals and other sandbars created choppy and unforgiving waves that pulse into him endlessly.
He is tiring, but he had promised her, so the stallion continues to swim despite the way his muscles scream for him to stop.
The river finally ends, its great mouth opening up into the sea that stretches before him endlessly. The ocean did not daunt him; he is a child born from the salted waves and though his home now is surrounded by mountains, he does not forget where he came from. His cerulean gaze flickers across the sparkling horizon, the dark churning waters of the ocean wrinkling like skin beneath the sun’s warm light. The Ischian islands are wavering in the far distance and a smile begins to curl onto his pale rose lips. With a toss of his head, he enters the pull of the ocean’s waves and begins the swim.
Svedka is a rather experienced and skillful swimmer; nearly all his days in Hyaline are spent with a few hours in the lake, or traveling to the mountainside where the ocean meets his home and swimming through stronger currents. It leaves his body toned and muscled as well as gifting him with the knowledge to go with the current; to not fight the waves but become a part of them. He uses this knowledge now, floating when needed and then propelling himself forward. His wistful gaze remains on the outcropping of the islands which grow larger with every stroke, nostrils flaring with exertion but a breathless smile found on his face that never seems to fade.
Later, he thinks mildly to himself, Solace will chide him for attempting to swim across the channel without first seeing whether the tide was going in or out. He hadn’t cared to check, and even now as he swims it does not cross his mind that perhaps he will tire before finding purchase on Ischia’s sandy lagoons. Water crashes over his head and moves him mercilessly, but with each breath he inhales there is nearly a laugh on his lips, despite the stinging that has begun to annoy his nostrils and bring a red color to his eyes.
It is not until he is nearly upon Ischia that his brow furrows with contemplation, the burning feeling in his lungs beginning to perturb him. He kept the island in his sights, and his breath no longer came slow and steady but now is ragged and pulsating as he attempts to keep himself afloat. The closer he came to shore, the stronger the currents became as corals and other sandbars created choppy and unforgiving waves that pulse into him endlessly.
He is tiring, but he had promised her, so the stallion continues to swim despite the way his muscles scream for him to stop.
(be my escape)
Svedka
Kylin maybe she can come assist in the last few feet of his travels?
<3
