Ruhr
03-23-2024, 03:55 PM
The sun is warm on his dappled back and Ruhr is lost in a dream.
He is back in Stratos as it had once been, before their world had crashed into this one. The moon had been close, so much larger than the distant one here, and he’d been bathed in Her silvery light.
She was saying something to him, something important.
He wakes, unable to recall Her words.
Ruhr sighs and shakes his feathered head. The motion tousles the colorful strands of his mane and tail, blending the yellow hairs with the dusky blue, the pale orange with the deepest red. The feathers in his mane and along his neck are a matching hue, as are those of his wings. The latter are revealed as he stretches his wings, rolling his shoulders and yawning widely before he folds them back in with languid grace.
He’d flown this morning, and the memory of the adrenaline is enough to infuse him with warmth again, and bring a smile to his handsome face. It had been a while since he was in the sky, and he had missed it. Ruhr is as slender as a stork, and each bit of him had been crafted for a life in the air. He was not meant for the earth, his flight had reminded him.
He is of the sky, and the Moon.
Still smiling faintly, he meets the gaze of an unfamiliar mare, and nods his feathered head to her in a polite greeting.
@Golde
He is back in Stratos as it had once been, before their world had crashed into this one. The moon had been close, so much larger than the distant one here, and he’d been bathed in Her silvery light.
She was saying something to him, something important.
He wakes, unable to recall Her words.
Ruhr sighs and shakes his feathered head. The motion tousles the colorful strands of his mane and tail, blending the yellow hairs with the dusky blue, the pale orange with the deepest red. The feathers in his mane and along his neck are a matching hue, as are those of his wings. The latter are revealed as he stretches his wings, rolling his shoulders and yawning widely before he folds them back in with languid grace.
He’d flown this morning, and the memory of the adrenaline is enough to infuse him with warmth again, and bring a smile to his handsome face. It had been a while since he was in the sky, and he had missed it. Ruhr is as slender as a stork, and each bit of him had been crafted for a life in the air. He was not meant for the earth, his flight had reminded him.
He is of the sky, and the Moon.
Still smiling faintly, he meets the gaze of an unfamiliar mare, and nods his feathered head to her in a polite greeting.
@Golde