10-18-2020, 02:47 PM
If ever you come near I'll hold up high a mirror
OphaniM
He spreads his wings and savors the way the sunlight warms him in the early autumn day. Sylva had been cold, most mornings, but their new home is kept a more comfortable temperature from the ocean winds. Are all the shores like this? Ophanim turns his golden head and considers the waves lapping up the sand for a while longer. His children enjoy splashing in the waters just fine, but he’s heard of rocky beaches and some spooky coastlines scattered with the bones of the dead. He’s intrigued enough to explore away from his new home for today. After all, most of his sons and daughters are grown now. They don’t need him coddling them anymore - even if he would like to.
He makes up this mind, then, that he should pry himself from the Cove to explore. Ophanim hasn’t done much adventuring since the plague. It could be nice to get out again. With one final stretch, he flaps his wings and takes to the skies, littering a few gold and white feathers on the ground in his wake.
It feels as though he hasn’t flown in ages. His body remembers like it was yesterday, though, and he rides the warm air currents as easily as breathing. He dips to the left and right as the world rushes by beneath him. Ophie remembers the rivers where he used to play and the hills he chased his friends along. They are treasured memories, but he wants something new or perhaps forgotten.
Then, at last, he spots the small islands surrounding Ischia. The mainland portion of it is vaguely familiar, but the sandbars and the islands are foreign to him. He tucks his wings and begins a steady descent until the white sand rises up to catch him. Ophanim surprises himself with how gracefully he comes to a stop - his halo barely teeters on its axis over his head. He gives a soft chuckle of self-approval and begins a lazy walk toward the sandbar.
The water is cold against his ankles when he begins to wade into the shallow waves. He remains entirely undeterred as he presses on to the nearest island. A sudden pinch at his fetlock makes him jump and give a short cry of surprise, however, and he pauses to peer down through the perfect blue waters.
“What on earth are you?” he asks the strange thing scuttling after him. He continues shying backward but remains grounded as he stares at the thing. “I didn’t mean to barge in, I promise!” The crustacean remains unconvinced as it keeps its tiny claws raised at him in warning.
He makes up this mind, then, that he should pry himself from the Cove to explore. Ophanim hasn’t done much adventuring since the plague. It could be nice to get out again. With one final stretch, he flaps his wings and takes to the skies, littering a few gold and white feathers on the ground in his wake.
It feels as though he hasn’t flown in ages. His body remembers like it was yesterday, though, and he rides the warm air currents as easily as breathing. He dips to the left and right as the world rushes by beneath him. Ophie remembers the rivers where he used to play and the hills he chased his friends along. They are treasured memories, but he wants something new or perhaps forgotten.
Then, at last, he spots the small islands surrounding Ischia. The mainland portion of it is vaguely familiar, but the sandbars and the islands are foreign to him. He tucks his wings and begins a steady descent until the white sand rises up to catch him. Ophanim surprises himself with how gracefully he comes to a stop - his halo barely teeters on its axis over his head. He gives a soft chuckle of self-approval and begins a lazy walk toward the sandbar.
The water is cold against his ankles when he begins to wade into the shallow waves. He remains entirely undeterred as he presses on to the nearest island. A sudden pinch at his fetlock makes him jump and give a short cry of surprise, however, and he pauses to peer down through the perfect blue waters.
“What on earth are you?” he asks the strange thing scuttling after him. He continues shying backward but remains grounded as he stares at the thing. “I didn’t mean to barge in, I promise!” The crustacean remains unconvinced as it keeps its tiny claws raised at him in warning.
Lord, I could never show you anything as beautiful as you.
@[Bruja]