What am I supposed to do when I want to talk about peace and understanding
But you only understand the language of violence?
But you only understand the language of violence?
And so Death made good on His promise, Sol slept peacefully every night in The Chamber—aided by whatever other Gods took pity on her and her kinsmen by placing her in the path of Tatter. She didn’t remember being picked apart by monsters, didn’t remember being stolen away; as far as the filly knew, her mother must have been extremely sick and had decided she could no longer care for her. There was that nasty plague not so long ago.
Sol sighed, knocking off an orange leaf that had fallen in the night and landed on her nose. She stretched out her spindly legs, grunting, then rolled and pushed herself up to stand. It was starting to get colder, even during the day, and she sucked in a deep breath before exhaling and marveling at the wisps of warmth billowing up from her nostrils. It almost looked like smoke.
Aside from Tatter, the roan child hadn’t really seen much of anyone else in The Chamber; she heard the wolves calling out at night, listened to the ravens squawk and squabble in the morning, and just yesterday she had huddled in a withering blackberry bush while a massive drove of elk made their way across the territory.
Other horses, though?
She pressed on through the forest, her dry mouth drawing her towards the sound of a rumbling river. The water itself was cold and crisp, filling her empty belly with a strange chill, though she paid it no mind—her mismatched eyes remained fixed on the charred pine tree just on the other side. There was something… different, about it. She couldn’t quite place it. It wasn’t the victim of some rogue pyrokinetic. No, she was certain of that. There was something special about the tree and the scaly girl needed to get a closer look.
Though it took most of the morning and some of the afternoon, Sol found a short stretch of river that was narrow enough and not too dangerous to cross. She shivered, her teeth chattering as she waded through the water, though she walked across boulders that lay on the riverbed and the water only came up to her knees.
The filly pressed on, charging down the riverbank in spite of the cold; she wasn’t sure how far down the river she had to go just to make it across, but leaping over driftwood and weaving between rocks and shrubs felt like it took no time at all before she saw the old pine come back into view. Grinning with childish delight, she slowed her pace and slowly crept toward her destination. Though Nocturnal had tried to recall all the intricate twists and turns of their family history, her mind was befuddled with magic and decades apart from her older sister meant she knew little to nothing about her beloved sibling’s children. Sol stared up at the charred tree admiringly, her mismatched eyes wide with awe.
“What sort of magic made this?” She wondered aloud, carefully circling around as if she wanted to inspect this wonderful new anomaly in her world from every angle. “They must have been very powerful.”No Crosses Count x Nocturnal
Sol sighed, knocking off an orange leaf that had fallen in the night and landed on her nose. She stretched out her spindly legs, grunting, then rolled and pushed herself up to stand. It was starting to get colder, even during the day, and she sucked in a deep breath before exhaling and marveling at the wisps of warmth billowing up from her nostrils. It almost looked like smoke.
Aside from Tatter, the roan child hadn’t really seen much of anyone else in The Chamber; she heard the wolves calling out at night, listened to the ravens squawk and squabble in the morning, and just yesterday she had huddled in a withering blackberry bush while a massive drove of elk made their way across the territory.
Other horses, though?
She pressed on through the forest, her dry mouth drawing her towards the sound of a rumbling river. The water itself was cold and crisp, filling her empty belly with a strange chill, though she paid it no mind—her mismatched eyes remained fixed on the charred pine tree just on the other side. There was something… different, about it. She couldn’t quite place it. It wasn’t the victim of some rogue pyrokinetic. No, she was certain of that. There was something special about the tree and the scaly girl needed to get a closer look.
Though it took most of the morning and some of the afternoon, Sol found a short stretch of river that was narrow enough and not too dangerous to cross. She shivered, her teeth chattering as she waded through the water, though she walked across boulders that lay on the riverbed and the water only came up to her knees.
The filly pressed on, charging down the riverbank in spite of the cold; she wasn’t sure how far down the river she had to go just to make it across, but leaping over driftwood and weaving between rocks and shrubs felt like it took no time at all before she saw the old pine come back into view. Grinning with childish delight, she slowed her pace and slowly crept toward her destination. Though Nocturnal had tried to recall all the intricate twists and turns of their family history, her mind was befuddled with magic and decades apart from her older sister meant she knew little to nothing about her beloved sibling’s children. Sol stared up at the charred tree admiringly, her mismatched eyes wide with awe.
“What sort of magic made this?” She wondered aloud, carefully circling around as if she wanted to inspect this wonderful new anomaly in her world from every angle. “They must have been very powerful.”
sol
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