12-21-2017, 07:51 PM
like the sun swallowed up by the earth
The winged-king had been eagerly awaiting Diable Rouge’s return. His nightly flights mostly took him over the channel - a spindly finger of water cutting through the land, where his bright gaze would alight on the border, searching for the familiar figure of the red mottled stallion. Each daybreak brought him soaring through the thick thermals of Tephra’s atmosphere, scouring the land for any sign of his return. Each day is the same - and he is left to greet strangers and care to his people, and to stare out into the open sea dreaming of his children and his golden lover. Even though he expects the same as he did the night before, the bay stallion takes to the skies with swooping beats of his navy wings, carrying him upwards and beyond to patrol Tephra’s borders from above, while Longclaw most certainly kept to the deeper and more darker parts of the mainland. The autumnal sun is intense on his back, the rays of light touching down on the cobalt of his great wingspan, the sound of his wings beating at his sides thrumming in his ears. Yet somehow through the strong wind and air currents, a long-lost voice carries upward to him from beneath. The stallion glances down with a slight tilt of his wings, pulling his forelegs closer to his body to peer at the world below him with narrowing eyes.
From the shallow depths of the smooth-flowing channel, two figures emerge - and though Warrick immediately understands that one is Diable Rouge, the sight of the slender frame beside his friend causes his heart to turn violently within his chest.
Solace.
With an expert twitch of his feathers he begins to ascend downwards, nearly plummeting to the earth like a hawk diving for its prey - it is foolish for him to fly so quickly to the ground, but he could not help it. He lands solidly, though not as gracefully as he normally does. His galloping legs trip uneasily on the soft ground, his large wings still outspread in attempts to slow himself down. One or two great beats of the feathered wings bring him to a canter, and then one more to a trot - and then he is meeting his daughter, pulling her into his chest with the curve of his neck and holding her tightly with one cobalt wing strewn across her back.
“My darling daughter,” he whispers in her ear breathlessly, the tightness in his throat threatening to unleash the stinging of tears that he can feel beneath his closed eyelids. He remains within this embrace for a long while - relishing the smell of her, the feel of her - before slowly opening his eyes and taking a single step back, pulling his wing to his side to match the other folded tightly at his side. He is in awe of her - her maturity is evident, for she has blossomed into a beautiful woman (which he is not surprised, given her mother). “I’ve missed you so much,” he tells her, his voice tight as a smile forms on his lips, blue eyes sparkling with the most joyous of tears as his cobalt muzzle brushes the ivory and deep honey of her soft cheek.
The stallion turns to Diable Rouge - who has delivered on his promise to Warrick - and gives him a regal nod of gratitude. “Thank you, my friend.”
Warrick
@[Solace] @[Diable Rouge] <3