08-23-2016, 09:51 PM
i swallow my doubt, turn it inside out - find nothing but faith in nothing.
The sun breaks free over the sky, but her once weary eyes had been open for some time - the gentle stirring of color in the otherwise dark blanket of stars pulls at the awakening horizon. Lazily, she watches as the soft pastels of periwinkle and tangerine paint its canvas, the sun gently peeking up over the plain, shedding light as far as the eye can see. Her limbs are stiff, and eventually she pulls herself away from the comfort of the shadows, flexing her tired muscles as she sinks into the warmth of morning light. Her jaw unhinges slightly - or at least it seems to - as a broad yawn emerges, her lungs stretching in their own way.
She spreads the breadth of her own wingspan, bending and twisting the delicate bone within as her blunt teeth gently tug and preen at the bright feathers that bristle within the light breeze that has begun to sweep through the valley, rustling the drying stalks of wheat as autumn moves in, heavy as sin. An uneasiness pulls at the fibers within her being, and slowly it begins to crawl across her caramel skin, leaving her wary and agitated. Something is watching, and a growl of frustration rattles within her throat.
Her hazel eyes peer towards the sky, cheek tilted to the left as she watches the dark falcon sweep its broad wingspan over the sky, dawn illuminating its outline and her brow furrows - her King. A title and nothing more, for he had done nothing but try to burden the weight of his own impending failure upon the shoulders of others, with little investment on his own behalf. Nothing had changed in the days preceding his ascension, though unrest had settled within her bones not long after listening to his self-important spiel.
With an awkward transformation, he somehow manages to shift mid-air from a sleek, graceful falcon into his equine form, with little transition in between - she cannot hide the wry smile that tugs at the corner of her whiskered lips as he stumbles across the ground. After all, shape-shifting takes time - it is no sudden change, manipulating feathers into hair and pliable, hollow bones into solid ones, but somehow he has managed - albeit clumsily. With a hesitant step back, the full expanse of her own broad, thick wings take to each side, doubling to each side as her eyes watch him warily.
The words that draw from his vile lips evoke a deep, humorless laugh from the depths of her lungs, incredulous and yet - in a way, all too delighted.
"So the coward King of such good word and virtue has chosen to make a stand? No tantrum of yours will convince any that you are worthy of the throne, Zeik," She muses, her long legs pushing forward as she circles him, a darkness reaching the depths of her eyes as she imagines pulling a femur from its socket or perhaps twisting a few ribs out of place - a simmering fury bubbles within, but she withholds her anger .. for now. "you are nothing and will be nothing until you become humble - without that, without others, you are nothing. You have done me a favor. I do not wish to see you fall face first into the mud."
And with that, her slender neck cranes to the right, and she pushes herself to a full gait, spreading the length of her wings as she glides into the morning sky with heavy wingbeats, her champagne form disappearing into the bright light of the sun.
She spreads the breadth of her own wingspan, bending and twisting the delicate bone within as her blunt teeth gently tug and preen at the bright feathers that bristle within the light breeze that has begun to sweep through the valley, rustling the drying stalks of wheat as autumn moves in, heavy as sin. An uneasiness pulls at the fibers within her being, and slowly it begins to crawl across her caramel skin, leaving her wary and agitated. Something is watching, and a growl of frustration rattles within her throat.
Her hazel eyes peer towards the sky, cheek tilted to the left as she watches the dark falcon sweep its broad wingspan over the sky, dawn illuminating its outline and her brow furrows - her King. A title and nothing more, for he had done nothing but try to burden the weight of his own impending failure upon the shoulders of others, with little investment on his own behalf. Nothing had changed in the days preceding his ascension, though unrest had settled within her bones not long after listening to his self-important spiel.
With an awkward transformation, he somehow manages to shift mid-air from a sleek, graceful falcon into his equine form, with little transition in between - she cannot hide the wry smile that tugs at the corner of her whiskered lips as he stumbles across the ground. After all, shape-shifting takes time - it is no sudden change, manipulating feathers into hair and pliable, hollow bones into solid ones, but somehow he has managed - albeit clumsily. With a hesitant step back, the full expanse of her own broad, thick wings take to each side, doubling to each side as her eyes watch him warily.
The words that draw from his vile lips evoke a deep, humorless laugh from the depths of her lungs, incredulous and yet - in a way, all too delighted.
"So the coward King of such good word and virtue has chosen to make a stand? No tantrum of yours will convince any that you are worthy of the throne, Zeik," She muses, her long legs pushing forward as she circles him, a darkness reaching the depths of her eyes as she imagines pulling a femur from its socket or perhaps twisting a few ribs out of place - a simmering fury bubbles within, but she withholds her anger .. for now. "you are nothing and will be nothing until you become humble - without that, without others, you are nothing. You have done me a favor. I do not wish to see you fall face first into the mud."
And with that, her slender neck cranes to the right, and she pushes herself to a full gait, spreading the length of her wings as she glides into the morning sky with heavy wingbeats, her champagne form disappearing into the bright light of the sun.
Ellyse
Surely you didn't think I wouldn't reply! Too fun. :)