02-06-2019, 05:36 PM
In the shiver of a moment leaves and branches turn to mere dust above him. Wyrm feels the sudden warmth of an exposed sun across his hide and acutely senses the layer of fine particles that drift down to coat his topline. Without sight he’s aware that Heartfire’s rage, lashing out at him in a tone like the strike of a whip, is an emotion she can now enforce with power. He can’t see what she’s done but he can picture her face so clearly in his mind - the sharp line of her dark lips, the cold glint to her striking eyes - and he knows, he just knows that the sapphire mare’s made herself into a force even he might not consider agitating.
“I have one child left to me, and Rapture is a mother herself now.” He murmurs roughly, giving Heartfire’s final statement a moment to settle into silence. Both Longclaw and his twin sister had sprouted like weeds after their separation, leaving Wyrm to secretly marvel at their advances from afar long after he’d put the blue stallion out on his own four hooves.
Now those days were over, like his, and he was happy to not have squandered his fertile years as his own sire had done. No two other children could have been more acceptable to him. “I was able to coerce you into meeting me one final time,” The shifter smirks, grizzled yet charming when he takes a painfully slow step in her direction. “but my dying wish is to speak with Bane.”
Eons ago, (it seems) when he was young and had stolen a brief look into the twisting flames of his future, Wyrm had been given the vision of seeing his grandson. There, in the hot glow of something he couldn’t explain, stood a stallion with bold, white wings. His skin had been golden, slashed through with iridescent stripes so blue even the heart of the fire couldn’t dim them. It made no sense, not back then.
If she only knew how many countless hours he’d spent looking for that same stallion, coming up empty time and time again. Years of waiting, years of watching Longclaw sire child after child until - at last! - to his earnest surprise the colt of his waking dreams slid into existence. That very night he’d torn his useless eyes clean from their resting place inside his skull and vowed to wait for a sign.
“If you won’t tell me where he is, maybe you can send him a message instead. Something to show him I’m here … something to make him visit, at least.” He barters, before a ripple of movement flicks like a shadow over his skin. He’s gone blue, the same color Longclaw sported so proudly all his life.
@[Heartfire]
“I have one child left to me, and Rapture is a mother herself now.” He murmurs roughly, giving Heartfire’s final statement a moment to settle into silence. Both Longclaw and his twin sister had sprouted like weeds after their separation, leaving Wyrm to secretly marvel at their advances from afar long after he’d put the blue stallion out on his own four hooves.
Now those days were over, like his, and he was happy to not have squandered his fertile years as his own sire had done. No two other children could have been more acceptable to him. “I was able to coerce you into meeting me one final time,” The shifter smirks, grizzled yet charming when he takes a painfully slow step in her direction. “but my dying wish is to speak with Bane.”
Eons ago, (it seems) when he was young and had stolen a brief look into the twisting flames of his future, Wyrm had been given the vision of seeing his grandson. There, in the hot glow of something he couldn’t explain, stood a stallion with bold, white wings. His skin had been golden, slashed through with iridescent stripes so blue even the heart of the fire couldn’t dim them. It made no sense, not back then.
If she only knew how many countless hours he’d spent looking for that same stallion, coming up empty time and time again. Years of waiting, years of watching Longclaw sire child after child until - at last! - to his earnest surprise the colt of his waking dreams slid into existence. That very night he’d torn his useless eyes clean from their resting place inside his skull and vowed to wait for a sign.
“If you won’t tell me where he is, maybe you can send him a message instead. Something to show him I’m here … something to make him visit, at least.” He barters, before a ripple of movement flicks like a shadow over his skin. He’s gone blue, the same color Longclaw sported so proudly all his life.
@[Heartfire]