08-25-2021, 01:52 PM
Leilan
The sky has the color of apricots, roses and peaches when the scaled stallion wanders by the Isle’s western shore. The sun hangs low, as it usually does around this time of the year, a beacon beckoning from far away. It can be looked at now - the sun. The fact that it’s there is part of his own doing, but had put a loved one out of reach; not unlike the ball of fire itself. Unreachable, untouchable, haunting. Taunting him with yet another day gone, time passing by. Time in which she might just stick around and be preserved forever, or time in which she will lose more and more of herself each day, each hour, each second that passes.
He doesn’t often visit the sunset on the western shores, but he does today. He’d have to do something different at some point, he figured - was that walking this way or that, or was it the way he’d tried to reach into the beyond, the greyness, past the veil he had only once been able to reach by? As he closes his eyes he tries to remember how they made it back to the beach, aided by the sound of the waves lapping calmly at his feet. The Isle provides enough ice around him to easily do this, were he not so inexperienced in the magic - but he’d promised, he’d promised not to leave. It would be so easy to make yet another portal, to vanish into that realm he now senses, but there is a stronger emotion tethering him to the world he knows. So now, instead of going, he is pulling - there is no other word to describe what his magic and his subconscious are doing. He’s looking for a friend, a mare, chestnut, slender build…
He stands, from an outside point of view, ossified on the beach. Opens swirling quicksilver eyes (a colour he never had before, one that fades to icy blue in a few heartbeats), and finds himself where he started.
But this time, he is not alone.
He doesn’t often visit the sunset on the western shores, but he does today. He’d have to do something different at some point, he figured - was that walking this way or that, or was it the way he’d tried to reach into the beyond, the greyness, past the veil he had only once been able to reach by? As he closes his eyes he tries to remember how they made it back to the beach, aided by the sound of the waves lapping calmly at his feet. The Isle provides enough ice around him to easily do this, were he not so inexperienced in the magic - but he’d promised, he’d promised not to leave. It would be so easy to make yet another portal, to vanish into that realm he now senses, but there is a stronger emotion tethering him to the world he knows. So now, instead of going, he is pulling - there is no other word to describe what his magic and his subconscious are doing. He’s looking for a friend, a mare, chestnut, slender build…
He stands, from an outside point of view, ossified on the beach. Opens swirling quicksilver eyes (a colour he never had before, one that fades to icy blue in a few heartbeats), and finds himself where he started.
But this time, he is not alone.
something so wrong
doing the right thing
doing the right thing
@Lyr
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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