11-02-2018, 01:05 PM
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING
OF MOVING ON
OF MOVING ON
Fascination glimmers in his molten eyes as he exhales a warm breath into cold, wintry air. The plume of vapor winds and twists, dancing in front of him before dissipating like it never existed. Another exhalation resumes the show, holding Tiphon’s attention and distracting him from the surrounding disarray. There is beauty in everything – one must simply find it. As much as he trembles underneath the oppressive hand of winter, he still looks endearingly at the frost-kissed branches. Beqanna is drowning with disease and mayhem shackled to its feet, plummeting much like Pangea had decades ago.
Pangea, yes, he remembers that. Even Ischia!
The names of the lands somehow ring a bell, and they had a touch of familiarity when the awakening voice mentioned Beqanna.
A consideration to help floods through the gates of his mind, swelling him with an unlikely expectation that he can heal them all. A light in the darkness – that is what they said he is, right? Yet the idea wracks his body with anticipated exhaustion. Could he do it? Perhaps, but he is still just trying to remember how to walk, run, and fly.
His wings sweep down, cupping the frigid wind. The feathers ruffle, but he quickly tucks them back to his sides, feeding off their additional warmth as the sun hides behind another cluster of gray clouds.. Tiphon peers up then back down when a honeyed voice kisses his ears and melts away the ice. Are you alive, she asks, and he cannot help to look over his shoulder to confirm whether or not they are alone. First his left, then his right, but he sees no one. Her gaze settles delicately on him and he hesitates while determining the validity of everything he sees, hears, and feels. Humming thoughtfully, he brushes his muzzle along a foreleg then levels his gilded eyes on her. ”I think so,” his voice is inquisitive, not entirely confident. What if this is a dream and the abysmal darkness from where he came is still his reality?
”What about you? Are you real?” He edges closer, lured by the enticement of contact. Her body heat extends its fingers toward him and pulls him in until his muzzle caresses the gentle curve of her shoulder. ”You’re real,” he breathes in a low whisper, his eyes drifting shut as he eases back, putting a small amount of space between them again. ”What happened?” And he allows his gaze to drift across the meadow in indication before settling on her again.
Pangea, yes, he remembers that. Even Ischia!
The names of the lands somehow ring a bell, and they had a touch of familiarity when the awakening voice mentioned Beqanna.
A consideration to help floods through the gates of his mind, swelling him with an unlikely expectation that he can heal them all. A light in the darkness – that is what they said he is, right? Yet the idea wracks his body with anticipated exhaustion. Could he do it? Perhaps, but he is still just trying to remember how to walk, run, and fly.
His wings sweep down, cupping the frigid wind. The feathers ruffle, but he quickly tucks them back to his sides, feeding off their additional warmth as the sun hides behind another cluster of gray clouds.. Tiphon peers up then back down when a honeyed voice kisses his ears and melts away the ice. Are you alive, she asks, and he cannot help to look over his shoulder to confirm whether or not they are alone. First his left, then his right, but he sees no one. Her gaze settles delicately on him and he hesitates while determining the validity of everything he sees, hears, and feels. Humming thoughtfully, he brushes his muzzle along a foreleg then levels his gilded eyes on her. ”I think so,” his voice is inquisitive, not entirely confident. What if this is a dream and the abysmal darkness from where he came is still his reality?
”What about you? Are you real?” He edges closer, lured by the enticement of contact. Her body heat extends its fingers toward him and pulls him in until his muzzle caresses the gentle curve of her shoulder. ”You’re real,” he breathes in a low whisper, his eyes drifting shut as he eases back, putting a small amount of space between them again. ”What happened?” And he allows his gaze to drift across the meadow in indication before settling on her again.
TIPHON
STARLACE AND INFECTION