11-16-2020, 12:28 AM
CrownS
Crowns is quick to learn and he takes careful note of how Wayfair’s warm winds had made him fly much higher. Now he commands the winds on his own, blowing them beneath his dripping wings as he explores Beqanna from a much greater altitude than he’s ever known. He enjoys seeing the sharp lines where the regions change - Sylva giving way to Loess, which in turn borders Tephra. The colors of their homes all clash and complement each other at once. But he sees a storm brewing in the north and he wonders what lies just ahead.
Chaos calls him much in the same way that blood or thrashing in the waters calls the shark. So, being the reckless thing he is, he plunges forward into the storm. Crowns is careful to dodge the lightning but the fat droplets of rain sting his skin from the speed at which he flies. A frown eases across his face before he tilts his wings downward, beginning his gentle descent after the strange bird nearby.
Except when she lands, she is not a bird at all. She is a girl, older than him, and seemingly excited about something. He lands less gracefully than her but he manages not to faceplant into the northern grasses. This is a great enough achievement for now.
“Why are you yelling?” he asks, his blue ears perked forward to catch her voice. Crowns can’t help but mirror the eager grin across her face as he watches her. Each raindrop sends his wings rippling as he folds them across his back and shifts his weight. He wonders what this place is called but he keeps his questions limited for now.
Chaos calls him much in the same way that blood or thrashing in the waters calls the shark. So, being the reckless thing he is, he plunges forward into the storm. Crowns is careful to dodge the lightning but the fat droplets of rain sting his skin from the speed at which he flies. A frown eases across his face before he tilts his wings downward, beginning his gentle descent after the strange bird nearby.
Except when she lands, she is not a bird at all. She is a girl, older than him, and seemingly excited about something. He lands less gracefully than her but he manages not to faceplant into the northern grasses. This is a great enough achievement for now.
“Why are you yelling?” he asks, his blue ears perked forward to catch her voice. Crowns can’t help but mirror the eager grin across her face as he watches her. Each raindrop sends his wings rippling as he folds them across his back and shifts his weight. He wonders what this place is called but he keeps his questions limited for now.
you got me on my knees; i'm your one-man cult.