06-15-2019, 12:07 AM
When his mother had told him to meet them in the Taiga, Pteron had not hesitated. The young soldier is accustomed to following orders, and while of late he has taken them from the Loessian military, the pegasus is young and loyal enough that he had not hesitated. Well, he’d hesitated a bit. There’d been a finned filly lingering at the edge of the river and a honey-haired boy that he’d needed to admire from afar. But then, without much hesitation he had done as ordered.
The redwood forest is an unfamiliar place to the tobiano pegasus, and as he flies across the border he angles his feathered wings so that he soars upward and into a low bank of clouds. When he emerges it is impossible to tell; it seems as though he’s vanished into the cloud itself. In truth, he soars invisibly across the coniferous canopy, his olive eyes flickering curiously over the land below. Pteron is not sure where his family might be in this strange wood, but the trees are numerous enough that he knows he is unlikely to find them on wing. The winged stallion passes several clearings, but something about this one catches his eye, and he lands.
There is no one about – just quiet woods and heavy fog. Heavy fog to Pteron, anyway, a boy of deserts and dry lands where fog of any density is a rarity. Calling out and shaking his wings for a moment, Pteron’s curious gaze darts about. On the opposite side of the clearing is a pale white stone. That might have been what caught his eye about this clearing, but Pteron gives it no second thought. Just a rock, he thinks, unfamiliar with the geologic makeup of this northern land and how out of place the white stone truly is.
Time passes, bit Pteron is content to wait. He has been raised better than to wander about a strange kingdom, even when invisible. There are powers greater than sight, the young horse knows, and just because he cannot be seen does not mean he cannot be found. Still, he continues to don his invisibility as he slowly meanders through the small meadow, pausing now and again to nose at unfamiliar plants and scents. If someone was to appear, he’d release his illusion, but until then he is content to remain unseen.
The redwood forest is an unfamiliar place to the tobiano pegasus, and as he flies across the border he angles his feathered wings so that he soars upward and into a low bank of clouds. When he emerges it is impossible to tell; it seems as though he’s vanished into the cloud itself. In truth, he soars invisibly across the coniferous canopy, his olive eyes flickering curiously over the land below. Pteron is not sure where his family might be in this strange wood, but the trees are numerous enough that he knows he is unlikely to find them on wing. The winged stallion passes several clearings, but something about this one catches his eye, and he lands.
There is no one about – just quiet woods and heavy fog. Heavy fog to Pteron, anyway, a boy of deserts and dry lands where fog of any density is a rarity. Calling out and shaking his wings for a moment, Pteron’s curious gaze darts about. On the opposite side of the clearing is a pale white stone. That might have been what caught his eye about this clearing, but Pteron gives it no second thought. Just a rock, he thinks, unfamiliar with the geologic makeup of this northern land and how out of place the white stone truly is.
Time passes, bit Pteron is content to wait. He has been raised better than to wander about a strange kingdom, even when invisible. There are powers greater than sight, the young horse knows, and just because he cannot be seen does not mean he cannot be found. Still, he continues to don his invisibility as he slowly meanders through the small meadow, pausing now and again to nose at unfamiliar plants and scents. If someone was to appear, he’d release his illusion, but until then he is content to remain unseen.