01-01-2023, 06:28 PM
Zohariel is young still, and has only known a world of change - so these last few years since the storm are strange to her. She is waiting for the next event - the tidal wave that will take the rest of Beqanna with it, the winter that will never end, the fire that chases them all into one extreme corner. She is not hoping for any of these things but at the same time they do not frighten her - because she has known this cataclysmic world and knows she, and her family, will survive it.
All these major changes do not bother her because she does not believe anything, not even a large tornado, can harm her.
She prefers the beaches and the places where the sky is unobstructed and she can feel the simple warmth of the sun or the invigorating presence of the night, but she slips into the forest today. There’s an instant sort of invigoration here under the shadows, something she tends to forget due to her preferences for those open spaces, and a sweet smile brightens her golden eyes as the stardust that wafts from her mane and tail glows a little brighter against the foliage that closes in around her.
Like the storms, like the shifting landscape, Zohariel has no reason to ever believe shadows can harm her - they are, after all, her friends.
She’s caught up in this dreamy world of hers when she spots him - the wings catching her attention first.
So narrow her life experiences have been when such simple things call to her and feel larger and more important than they really are. The shadows and now wings, for she remembers so well the stories of how her mother had dreamed herself a pair so she could fly with her love.
(Such dreams have not worked yet for young Zohariel, but then - she has not been in love and maybe that is the secret)
These thoughts are not in her mind as she approaches - she is just curious in her naive way. As highlighted by the question she poses when she is close enough. “Do you ever get bits of trees tangled in your feathers?”
All these major changes do not bother her because she does not believe anything, not even a large tornado, can harm her.
She prefers the beaches and the places where the sky is unobstructed and she can feel the simple warmth of the sun or the invigorating presence of the night, but she slips into the forest today. There’s an instant sort of invigoration here under the shadows, something she tends to forget due to her preferences for those open spaces, and a sweet smile brightens her golden eyes as the stardust that wafts from her mane and tail glows a little brighter against the foliage that closes in around her.
Like the storms, like the shifting landscape, Zohariel has no reason to ever believe shadows can harm her - they are, after all, her friends.
She’s caught up in this dreamy world of hers when she spots him - the wings catching her attention first.
So narrow her life experiences have been when such simple things call to her and feel larger and more important than they really are. The shadows and now wings, for she remembers so well the stories of how her mother had dreamed herself a pair so she could fly with her love.
(Such dreams have not worked yet for young Zohariel, but then - she has not been in love and maybe that is the secret)
These thoughts are not in her mind as she approaches - she is just curious in her naive way. As highlighted by the question she poses when she is close enough. “Do you ever get bits of trees tangled in your feathers?”
@sleaze
nothing says happy new year like replying to a post made in the summer