06-19-2020, 07:38 AM
----------------tell me: who do i run to?
In the beginning, Pteron had not understood the unhurried manner in which Aegean lives. The dun had made the mistake of mistaking lack of haste with lack of desire, and it had come at a cost. Somehow though, Pteron does not feel the poorer for having paid those years – it only serves to make him all the more grateful for what he has now. He still dreams of the future - makes grand plans for it, even – but knows there is value in the small moments too, that life does not need to be lived at speed to be fully lived.
“We can say our goodbyes, tell the children, and be away before the frost comes.” Not that the frost will come to these jungles, Pteron thinks with a smile, nor to their tropical destination.
A sharp squeal draws his attention, but it is followed by matching peals of laughter, and Pteron shakes his head as the sound of their children playing grows fainter with distance. They have grown so quickly, never slowing from the moment that he had learned of their existence. He kisses the glowing white skin that had once stretched wide around their children, and marvels in the miracle of their creation. It is not something that he dares hope for a second time, even this near to the magician who had aided them. It would be only fair for Pteron to take his turn at carrying children if he were to hope for more, the dun stallion thinks, and he is not eager to do so.
He is ever amazed that Aegean had, and makes no secret of it.
“Perhaps one of the little islands will be in need of Beachmasters,” Pteron says as he lays his chin across Aegean’s glowing back, closing his olive eyes at the gentle touches along his own sides. “We can have a place all our own. Maybe even name it Aegean Island.” His tone has been somber until the last, and Pteron is grateful for the way they stand, which at least hides the amusement on his face.
@[aegean]
-- pteron --