04-14-2020, 02:31 PM
i have slipped the surly bonds of earth
and danced the skies on laugh-silvered wings
and danced the skies on laugh-silvered wings
He always returns to the canyon den in those hours that his heart aches a little harder for Oceane. The scent of his mother has long since faded from the sandstone, her absence measuring nearly a year by this point, but Alcinder can still hear the way her laughter echoes through the caverns. He can still hear the splashing of the murky basin from the day they'd made a competition of running down the canyon pathway and rocketing their bodies into the water.
A gentle sigh escapes the yearling's ajar maw as he curls into a small, rocky hovel carved by water millions of years prior into the wall of the canyon. Alcinder wraps his two-toned wings around his lithe and still-leggy body, settling in for a nap in the safety of his den. Their den.
His nap is short, interrupted by hoof falls on sandstone. He'd been a light sleeper for as long as he can remember ─ with a first year of life riddled full of captivity and absent parents (as understanding as he is, for such a young boy), he hasn't been afforded the option to be a deep sleeper.
Alcinder steps out of the small cave and into the open, half-expecting Aunt Lepis to be enjoying prickly pear by the trunk of the willow, but instead ─
"Hello..." suspicion seeps into his greeting, despite the warmth of the man's face. Not many knew the existence of their canyon den, but even so, the last strange man to slip between the sandstone walls had been the one who'd swept Alcinder away and to the wasteland of Pangea. "Alcinder," he tells the man as he feigns a stretch of his wings; better to take off with swiftly, if they're already open. Aunt Lepis had taught him that.
But as the wind catches the stallion's scent and carries it to the boy's waiting nostrils, there's a small tendril of recognition that takes hold. He has smelled it before, faint on Oceane's opaline coat. "Are you friends with my mom?" he asks outright, his intelligent silvered eyes exploring the face of the stranger for anything that might be amiss.
A gentle sigh escapes the yearling's ajar maw as he curls into a small, rocky hovel carved by water millions of years prior into the wall of the canyon. Alcinder wraps his two-toned wings around his lithe and still-leggy body, settling in for a nap in the safety of his den. Their den.
His nap is short, interrupted by hoof falls on sandstone. He'd been a light sleeper for as long as he can remember ─ with a first year of life riddled full of captivity and absent parents (as understanding as he is, for such a young boy), he hasn't been afforded the option to be a deep sleeper.
Alcinder steps out of the small cave and into the open, half-expecting Aunt Lepis to be enjoying prickly pear by the trunk of the willow, but instead ─
"Hello..." suspicion seeps into his greeting, despite the warmth of the man's face. Not many knew the existence of their canyon den, but even so, the last strange man to slip between the sandstone walls had been the one who'd swept Alcinder away and to the wasteland of Pangea. "Alcinder," he tells the man as he feigns a stretch of his wings; better to take off with swiftly, if they're already open. Aunt Lepis had taught him that.
But as the wind catches the stallion's scent and carries it to the boy's waiting nostrils, there's a small tendril of recognition that takes hold. He has smelled it before, faint on Oceane's opaline coat. "Are you friends with my mom?" he asks outright, his intelligent silvered eyes exploring the face of the stranger for anything that might be amiss.
─ @[Soran]
i have slipped the surly bonds of earth
and danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings
and danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings