hide my face again, harbor in the shadows | topsail, padma

[Elysium]

watch your tongue or have it cut from your head,
save your life by keeping whispers unsaid.

   At last, home.

   The gentle breeze carries through the thick, shadowed foliage as his six-legged stance comes to a firm half before the border of the land he had once thought of as his own. The sunlight of day was shining down brightly, but already the tightly knit pine held it at bay, shielding his fragile patterned wings with their dark caress. He focuses his compound eyes on the shrubbery ahead, piecing together its delicate branches and minuscule, folded leaves, and he listens closely with too-sensitive ear holes as the wind whistles past him. He is not alone - no, he is accompanied by the companionship of a seductress with a foul attitude and a slick tongue; the scent of her beneath him still lingers on his senses, though the salty rains have already washed it away from his flaking pelt. 

   He gazes to the alabaster female at his side, observing the way she practically beams at the border, and he knows she too feels the very allure to its shadows. It was foolish to ever leave; asinine to think that either of them could exist comfortably among the searing sun and bright, open skies. They were meant for the shadows, purposed for the embrace of darkness and now, here they are, again. He had once held a principled position within the caste - but he would not fight for it again. He would serve faithfully to his Queen, as he had done for his King, but a position meant little without substance. He was not certain he desired to begin at the bottom again. Perhaps in time, he would allow old wounds to heal and he would again work to better democracy and serve his Queen in whatever way she required.

   First, he would have to meet her. To know her.
   And know her, he would.

   He stepped forth, beyond the boundary, and a snarling wolf was instantly at his flank - its teeth bared, its eyes burning into his, but a soft nicker caused it to blink and think twice. It eased back, uncertain; its scent was certainly of another land, yet he was altogether recognizable - no creature could view a six-legged equine with such unusual eyes and appendages and not think twice. He pauses then and calls to her, to Topsail, his voice carrying through the heavy mist and thickly laced trees. It was only a matter of time until she came, and he braced himself - he had heard of her unusual trick, but he was not altogether prepared to see it.

elysium

no mercy from the edge of the blade,
dare escape and learn the price to be paid.