01-19-2020, 08:37 PM
Breckin had lost track of how long she’d been rooted - foreleg lifted and frozen midstep - dark eyes unyielding against the sharp lines of grey. Long enough for the sun to rise to its highest point in the sky, she could surmise, without shifting the mark of her dreamstruck gaze. It was impossible, to know that a boundary ran just before her, that her body could not physically cross that line though her heart begged it. How could she not move? How much more ridiculous could she be? And yet there she stood, head low and ears just as idle, unable to find the courage to make a tiny leap.
What if I fall? What if there’s just more of nothing?
But what if there’s something? You might find your wings to fly.
Had it not been for the silence, she might not have bothered. Not quiet of Taiga per se, the redwood sentinels had seen a bit of activity lately, but the quiet that nearly suffocated her. Self inflicted it might have been, but it was a small price to pay at the time to do her part to protect Arthas. Though in those long days of isolation and laying low, questions had become tainted with wisps of doubt. Insignificant in stature maybe, but still there. All because she had placed a seed of faith with the charcoal stallion, harboring hope and fostering wishes that someday soon she might find more answers with his help. Patience, she’d come to find, was a hard learned virtue, and one that was harder yet in practice.
Such practices had been especially difficult that ugly spring morning when she’d awoken. Foggy, cool and dull, the morning dew had stuck to her pitch speckled coat, and struck her ever so oddly. It sent a chill down the length of her spine and a tickle in her mind, when she realized that something was painfully familiar about a morning like this. And it had set her northbound in an unthinking moment, drawn not unlike an insect to warmth.
But there was that pesky wall now - that she should can see and not see simultaneously. This was impossible. And she sighed, consciously making the effort to relax her clenched jaw with the threat of a pounding headache just moments away. But there was something else beyond the physical pain, something deeper and primal that could be ferried away with the change of thought.
It was scary, to see how easily she saw it now; A thing born of the known and unknown. She recognized it, with the same certainty and affection as prey might meet with the eyes of a predator across the meadow.
Fear.
It was then she realized she couldn’t do it, and her food dropped to the ground.
@[Lilliana]
What if I fall? What if there’s just more of nothing?
But what if there’s something? You might find your wings to fly.
Had it not been for the silence, she might not have bothered. Not quiet of Taiga per se, the redwood sentinels had seen a bit of activity lately, but the quiet that nearly suffocated her. Self inflicted it might have been, but it was a small price to pay at the time to do her part to protect Arthas. Though in those long days of isolation and laying low, questions had become tainted with wisps of doubt. Insignificant in stature maybe, but still there. All because she had placed a seed of faith with the charcoal stallion, harboring hope and fostering wishes that someday soon she might find more answers with his help. Patience, she’d come to find, was a hard learned virtue, and one that was harder yet in practice.
Such practices had been especially difficult that ugly spring morning when she’d awoken. Foggy, cool and dull, the morning dew had stuck to her pitch speckled coat, and struck her ever so oddly. It sent a chill down the length of her spine and a tickle in her mind, when she realized that something was painfully familiar about a morning like this. And it had set her northbound in an unthinking moment, drawn not unlike an insect to warmth.
But there was that pesky wall now - that she should can see and not see simultaneously. This was impossible. And she sighed, consciously making the effort to relax her clenched jaw with the threat of a pounding headache just moments away. But there was something else beyond the physical pain, something deeper and primal that could be ferried away with the change of thought.
It was scary, to see how easily she saw it now; A thing born of the known and unknown. She recognized it, with the same certainty and affection as prey might meet with the eyes of a predator across the meadow.
Fear.
It was then she realized she couldn’t do it, and her food dropped to the ground.
@[Lilliana]