04-07-2021, 07:07 PM
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“Cheri.” It is nothing more than a whisper, but his heart wants it to be a scream. His lungs quiver within their cage, desperate for air from a throat that only wishes to call for a green-eyed girl. And for a few moments (enough where he begins to ache from the sheer tension of it), Targaryen’s body is at odds with itself. It must decide whether to continue breathing or to repeat her name into the empty clearing. The tobiano knows what his answer would be, but this is just another opinion adding itself to the chaos that battles within him.
And eventually, instincts take over. Targaryen sucks in a breath so deep that his lungs squeeze painfully. Yet the breath fills him, bringing life back into the tired cells of his body and offering his heart a chance to steady itself. The rational part of him knows that it would be ignorant to call her name again — the only sign of movement in the empty clearing is an arctic fox who peers at him with twin orange eyes. Its summer coat blends easily into the dead foilage of the clearing, and the sound of its paws crackling against the dry grass makes Targaryen think suddenly of his mother.
Noori has always been a creature of the woods, woven from bark and leaf herself. Yet Targaryen has never learned if his mother survives like a horse or like a tree. When the sun still rose and set, he would find her dormant body rooted into the soil deep in the Forest and wait for a day at a time, watching for the nearly imperceptible rise and fall of her chest. Since the darkness, he hasn’t been able to find Noori (let alone the mighty, ancient redwoods of Taiga).
Now his chest tightens at the thought of his mother gray and brittle somewhere, shriveling without the energy of the sun. So Targaryen focuses on the sun, hoping that its return will bring life back into Noori. The sun’s warmth hits his back so fiercely it seems that it missed them just as much as they missed it. The tobiano closes his brown eyes, enjoying the way the heat soaks into his skin and seems to collect itself into the colored feathers on his wings.
At the sound of a voice — older, to be sure, but a voice that has echoed in his mind for months — Targaryen feels as though the sun has found a home inside him. The sudden shifting breeze does nothing to dim the burning that seems to light him on fire (and he wonders if burning simply by hearing her voice will doom him to a future he still does not quite understand). Targaryen turns slowly, anticipating those green eyes to spark with anger.
The burning becomes something softer, sweeter, smoother and Targaryen relaxes at the sight of Cheri’s slender face. “Cheri.” He feels something release from within — a tightness among the cords of his heart — and assumes it is from relief. He is grateful to be back in Taiga, after all. The redwoods had become home during the time he spent before getting lost, and he has come to associate Cheri with the land. Perhaps that is why he is burning, then simmering, then relaxing… It certainly must be because Cheri reminds him of the first home he has come to love… Right?
Targaryen doesn’t know if an explanation will soothe the anger she must feel, but it comes spilling out of him before he can stop it. “I went for a walk, but it was so dark I couldn’t find my way back, and then I got lost, and I didn’t know how to get home, and no one could help me, and I was so scared, and I am so glad to see you.” Because she reminds him of Taiga, and Taiga has become home… At least, that is what he thinks.
And eventually, instincts take over. Targaryen sucks in a breath so deep that his lungs squeeze painfully. Yet the breath fills him, bringing life back into the tired cells of his body and offering his heart a chance to steady itself. The rational part of him knows that it would be ignorant to call her name again — the only sign of movement in the empty clearing is an arctic fox who peers at him with twin orange eyes. Its summer coat blends easily into the dead foilage of the clearing, and the sound of its paws crackling against the dry grass makes Targaryen think suddenly of his mother.
Noori has always been a creature of the woods, woven from bark and leaf herself. Yet Targaryen has never learned if his mother survives like a horse or like a tree. When the sun still rose and set, he would find her dormant body rooted into the soil deep in the Forest and wait for a day at a time, watching for the nearly imperceptible rise and fall of her chest. Since the darkness, he hasn’t been able to find Noori (let alone the mighty, ancient redwoods of Taiga).
Now his chest tightens at the thought of his mother gray and brittle somewhere, shriveling without the energy of the sun. So Targaryen focuses on the sun, hoping that its return will bring life back into Noori. The sun’s warmth hits his back so fiercely it seems that it missed them just as much as they missed it. The tobiano closes his brown eyes, enjoying the way the heat soaks into his skin and seems to collect itself into the colored feathers on his wings.
At the sound of a voice — older, to be sure, but a voice that has echoed in his mind for months — Targaryen feels as though the sun has found a home inside him. The sudden shifting breeze does nothing to dim the burning that seems to light him on fire (and he wonders if burning simply by hearing her voice will doom him to a future he still does not quite understand). Targaryen turns slowly, anticipating those green eyes to spark with anger.
The burning becomes something softer, sweeter, smoother and Targaryen relaxes at the sight of Cheri’s slender face. “Cheri.” He feels something release from within — a tightness among the cords of his heart — and assumes it is from relief. He is grateful to be back in Taiga, after all. The redwoods had become home during the time he spent before getting lost, and he has come to associate Cheri with the land. Perhaps that is why he is burning, then simmering, then relaxing… It certainly must be because Cheri reminds him of the first home he has come to love… Right?
Targaryen doesn’t know if an explanation will soothe the anger she must feel, but it comes spilling out of him before he can stop it. “I went for a walk, but it was so dark I couldn’t find my way back, and then I got lost, and I didn’t know how to get home, and no one could help me, and I was so scared, and I am so glad to see you.” Because she reminds him of Taiga, and Taiga has become home… At least, that is what he thinks.
@[Cheri]