01-20-2019, 07:15 AM
Leilan
Glaciers melting in the dead of night
and the superstars sucked into the supermassive
and the superstars sucked into the supermassive
The scaled roan had been to the north, figuring some time alone would be best. Some days he’d wonder about fairies and magic and changes in his life; things he’d done wrong, things he’d done to sort-of make it right. There hadn’t been much that he thought he did very well in his life, always finding a way to get things to go askew. These days, he even wondered if Breckin had retreated so much because of her pregnancy and if so, if it was even a good thing to have another child.
But he ends up thinking in circles, and the only conclusion he can draw from his poor decisions is that he should do better with this Isle.
On his way back, a call drifts on the wind. The familiar female voice of Nalia, Ardashir’s mate. She, he thinks, is the reason the great white had agreed to taking a position of leadership on the island; and her decision majorly being influenced by a certain Plague.
She wouldn’t call him if it wasn’t something she deemed important (she might call Ard instead) - and so he quickens into a trot, crossing the snow-clad meadow to find not just one, but two mares. A grey Lippizaner is with the painted grulla, and the ice-and-gold-clad male nods to her in greeting. ”Welcome to the iciest place in Beqanna,” he grins to her and extends his smile to Nalia, before looking at the visitor again. ”I see you’ve already been welcomed. What can I help you with?”
But he ends up thinking in circles, and the only conclusion he can draw from his poor decisions is that he should do better with this Isle.
On his way back, a call drifts on the wind. The familiar female voice of Nalia, Ardashir’s mate. She, he thinks, is the reason the great white had agreed to taking a position of leadership on the island; and her decision majorly being influenced by a certain Plague.
She wouldn’t call him if it wasn’t something she deemed important (she might call Ard instead) - and so he quickens into a trot, crossing the snow-clad meadow to find not just one, but two mares. A grey Lippizaner is with the painted grulla, and the ice-and-gold-clad male nods to her in greeting. ”Welcome to the iciest place in Beqanna,” he grins to her and extends his smile to Nalia, before looking at the visitor again. ”I see you’ve already been welcomed. What can I help you with?”
you set my soul alight
@[Sidereum] @[Nalia]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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