11-26-2018, 07:46 AM
With Pteron off to play in the shallow creek (and explicit instructions to not go farther north than the big boulder or farther south than the willow copse), I have the afternoon to myself. I had watched without complaint as my husband took to the skies, off to our all but empty home.
I remain here, safe in the tall grasses, surrounded by strangers.
Where is Delta now, I wonder? Had he returned to Sylva? What if he were struck by the Plague while travelling? I have not yet seen a victim of the contagion, so secluded have I been here in this refuge. How bad is it, really? Enough that my husband insists we remain here, enough that I have never considered leaving.
But to not leave means to stay in this quiet little land, and boredom has long since settled in. With a sharp snort I make a decision. From my standstill I am at a sudden gallop, the wind streaming in my navy mane and between the feathers of wings I keep tucked tightly to my sides. I am not the fastest creature, not with my short stature and lack of endurance, but there is only one way to make up for that.
I have been running for a few days now, and though at first the ache in my lungs and burn in my legs had been agony, I have pushed through. I had been fit once, before my pregnancy, and I will be fit again. I crest a hill and see a flash of silver that I know to be the stream, but my pace does not slow. I run and run until I can see the sea, and only then do I draw to a halt, blowing and steaming and feeling - at last - like I have done something worthwhile with my time.
@[Anyone]
I remain here, safe in the tall grasses, surrounded by strangers.
Where is Delta now, I wonder? Had he returned to Sylva? What if he were struck by the Plague while travelling? I have not yet seen a victim of the contagion, so secluded have I been here in this refuge. How bad is it, really? Enough that my husband insists we remain here, enough that I have never considered leaving.
But to not leave means to stay in this quiet little land, and boredom has long since settled in. With a sharp snort I make a decision. From my standstill I am at a sudden gallop, the wind streaming in my navy mane and between the feathers of wings I keep tucked tightly to my sides. I am not the fastest creature, not with my short stature and lack of endurance, but there is only one way to make up for that.
I have been running for a few days now, and though at first the ache in my lungs and burn in my legs had been agony, I have pushed through. I had been fit once, before my pregnancy, and I will be fit again. I crest a hill and see a flash of silver that I know to be the stream, but my pace does not slow. I run and run until I can see the sea, and only then do I draw to a halt, blowing and steaming and feeling - at last - like I have done something worthwhile with my time.
@[Anyone]
