Holding you close feels like a cut throat [Holiday Party] // Hellein

[Sabra]

It's for my own good, I tell myself. Over and over again, like a persistent mantra that I can't get by without. It's for my own good. When was the last time I'd done something to make my own life better? Had it been when I walked into Nerine searching for a purpose, and had found myself bleeding into the cold earth instead? Or when I kept my tiny daughter, despite the hell I knew she'd bring me. At every turn it felt like I could only lose. I need a win, and a rest. Not a sleep, I've had far too much of that lately. Now I feel awake, and with the little honey girl tucked safely away in a warm hollow in Tephra for the night, perhaps I can rest my mind and feed my soul. 

It took longer than it should have to get here. Once more my wings were intact, but i couldn't quite bring myself to trust them. Land bound for so long, how could I be sure the sky would hold me any longer? And so I walked, wetting my hocks in the surf, and let my legs carry me as far as they'd go. This was a new place. The Island Resort, they called it, not so different from Ischia and yet it held its own mystery. Strange piles of stone and metal, dead wood marked with faded colors and strange sigils. Magical, in a way. I could not help but stare as I walked past. There was a history to this place that time had only managed to obscure, not yet erase. Perhaps when tonight was over I would look more closely. 

For now, the island was clearly transformed from its natural state. The air grew notably cooler as I stepped toward the glow of the festivity. Tropical trees surrounded me, and still there was snow glittering in the starlight, clean and crisp underfoot. Bright colors streamed through the scene, cheerful reds, golds and greens. Despite my newly normal dolor I could feel my face relax into something almost like a smile. Others milled about the illuminated area, clustered in their twos and threes. It was a spot of happiness that had been absent in Beqanna recently. 

I contented myself with watching others for while. It could be enough to see them in all their loveliness, without intruding on their private worlds. In my time away I'd become an outsider, I realized with sad awareness. The lattice of silvery scars that cobwebbed me from face to shoulders, the larger one where my son had torn my shoulder, the still pink ones where my wing had snapped back after more than a year fractured. Feathers missing, eyes dull with loss. It would surely be better to watch, and not be seen. 

Could I fool myself, that my colors would do more to blend in with the gaudy landscape than to stand out? Probably not. But I was not the only bright thing here, either, and I could be a shadow here in the wake of a glistening pine. 

@[Hallein]

[Hallein]

and at once i knew i was not magnificent

strayed above the highway aisle - i could see for miles

He has odd timing, to be sure.
Hallein has watched most of the chaos from afar — the shifting of the lands, now unrecognizable; the cracking of the seal, the illness. Through it all, Hallein has watched, waited, for no reason in particular. Perhaps he was waiting for the return of the Deserts, or perhaps a familiar face — Vanquish or his adoptive mother and siblings. He’s yet to spot any of these things. The world is a different place.
It’s strange, then, that he would choose now, and here, to return.
Though he has always hated the cold — a side effect of being raised in the dry heat of the desert — he is drawn to the wintry island; the twinkling of the bridge, the reflection of the starlight in the water. He, too, was born of starlight.
As he crosses the bridge, his hooves dip into the white sand — still warm. A comfort; a reminder of his once-home. The blue-green boy doesn’t linger, instead pressing further into the island, crossing from the warm, white sand into the cold, white snow. Hallein looks around, taking in the ice sculptures, the cluster of horses skating on an ice pond nearby. A chill runs through his spine. He continues through the snow, dipping his head, antlers momentarily catching on some decorations hanging from the trees. He looks up once he’s untangled himself, and a shiny opalescent mare nearby catches his eye. She’s a little rough around the edges, he notices upon approach — scarred, a few feathers missing. He isn’t easily deterred, especially considering how little interaction he’s had with others recently.
As he steps forward, he begins to harness his energy, thankful for the night sky — first creating a small ball of starlight, then spreading it wider, further, until it becomes a twinkling blanket, enveloping Hallein and the winged mare as he meets her. The heat of the starlight eases him.
“I thought you looked cold,” he says, smiling briefly. “Hallein.”

Hallein

character ref here

@[Sabra]