11-01-2016, 08:37 AM
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING
OF MOVING ON
OF MOVING ON
Tiphon has been hoping that their sea-bound home would attract many to their white sand beaches. There is seclusion from the mainland, but there is also beauty and warmth. There is promise in this spit of land, and hope. When Tiphon’s eyes rove through the trees and across the spring he can see children being raised and families forming. This is a place of love and devotion where their hearts bring them all together and their passions are the glue. The Daleans congregated and expanded their numbers and this is what they were given: a paradise. Although their former home often darkens his thoughts he is still relieved to be here, to be able to provide a home for the next generations.
Amid his wanderings Tiphon hears the heavy beat of wings against the coastal winds. His eyes turn up but can hardly see beyond the green canopy. He initially assumes it to be Ashley or perhaps even Phaedrus although he hasn’t seen them in a couple months since they first arrived (he never actually saw the latter join them here). The simplicity of hearing others around him is enough to incite a shadowed grin. Tiphon is smiling to himself, to this legacy, but no one is around to see the brief lightheartedness. His melancholy and stern expression are often what the Daleans witnessed as though Tiphon was losing his sense of joy and wonder. They don’t know how alive it still is, but it is suppressed underneath the oppressing beasts of his past.
There is a moment in which Tiphon loses himself, but his legs never cease. Like a machine he continues to walk until the soil transitions into sand and the thick forest thins into a few palm trees. The wall of green in behind him, the bay at his front gurgling at him. It’s only then that he sees the stallion, a stranger to their home, but he is considerate enough to remain on the outskirts. A breath is drawn into his lungs and he latches onto the foreign scent before he inches forward with his eyes curious and unyielding. ”I’m Tiphon,” it’s becoming more frequent to introduce himself. This isn’t The Before when most knew of the Dalean angel; this is a new world, a new generation, and he once again has to etch his name into the tales of their world (although now he is mortal and far from the grandeur that he once boasted). ”Is there anything I can help you with?” This isn’t the Dale and not everyone is an enemy anymore.
Amid his wanderings Tiphon hears the heavy beat of wings against the coastal winds. His eyes turn up but can hardly see beyond the green canopy. He initially assumes it to be Ashley or perhaps even Phaedrus although he hasn’t seen them in a couple months since they first arrived (he never actually saw the latter join them here). The simplicity of hearing others around him is enough to incite a shadowed grin. Tiphon is smiling to himself, to this legacy, but no one is around to see the brief lightheartedness. His melancholy and stern expression are often what the Daleans witnessed as though Tiphon was losing his sense of joy and wonder. They don’t know how alive it still is, but it is suppressed underneath the oppressing beasts of his past.
There is a moment in which Tiphon loses himself, but his legs never cease. Like a machine he continues to walk until the soil transitions into sand and the thick forest thins into a few palm trees. The wall of green in behind him, the bay at his front gurgling at him. It’s only then that he sees the stallion, a stranger to their home, but he is considerate enough to remain on the outskirts. A breath is drawn into his lungs and he latches onto the foreign scent before he inches forward with his eyes curious and unyielding. ”I’m Tiphon,” it’s becoming more frequent to introduce himself. This isn’t The Before when most knew of the Dalean angel; this is a new world, a new generation, and he once again has to etch his name into the tales of their world (although now he is mortal and far from the grandeur that he once boasted). ”Is there anything I can help you with?” This isn’t the Dale and not everyone is an enemy anymore.
TIPHON
STARLACE AND INFECTION