09-02-2021, 05:09 PM
His red eyes flick back and remain pinned to Starlace's smug statue as he shakily finds his feet again. The pain is something he almost cannot bear but he sneers and hisses and stands anyway, stubborn, furious. The pieces of them shift strangely and a shudder runs through his feathers, his stomach flip-flopping, and the way the pieces of the once-whole shell of his hooves move apart to spread beneath his weight makes him stumble when he tries to step forward again.
"Loess." He's nodding, still growling with the pain of his newly cloven hooves, but the screaming has ended. The word rumbles nearly under his breath. Yes. Loess. He does not know much about the kingdom itself except for the fire that killed his mother's friend, like Malik he has never been there before, but he has a rough idea of where it lies from Popinjay's stories.
"Cross the river at the Mountain and go until the trees stop." His voice is fading into a whimper that he swallows thickly, "That's Loess."
The pain settles into a throbbing hum vibrating up his legs and he casts around in the shadows for something to focus his attention away. There in the darkness, the images of their future play on, futures where they are successful, and ones where they are not, and the horses that they may run into there. The buckskin frowns, twisting his face up in an attempt to understand the possibilities laid before them but he's not used to linking the intricacies together. Everything seems as apt to fly to bits as to not. The only futures where they ever succeed show them leaving now. Immediately. The searing ache in the bones of his feet makes him pause and wince. There's no way he can walk that far.
"We could get there if we flew," he mumbles softly, more to himself, because he does not have wings and he does not know if Malik can take a shape that has them, but he sifts deeper into the shadow theater and finds it. There. There are futures where they fly, too. But how?
"Can you fly?" He asks, suddenly, pained expression brightening slightly, "I think... maybe I can fly too..."
But how? He's never done that before.
"Loess." He's nodding, still growling with the pain of his newly cloven hooves, but the screaming has ended. The word rumbles nearly under his breath. Yes. Loess. He does not know much about the kingdom itself except for the fire that killed his mother's friend, like Malik he has never been there before, but he has a rough idea of where it lies from Popinjay's stories.
"Cross the river at the Mountain and go until the trees stop." His voice is fading into a whimper that he swallows thickly, "That's Loess."
The pain settles into a throbbing hum vibrating up his legs and he casts around in the shadows for something to focus his attention away. There in the darkness, the images of their future play on, futures where they are successful, and ones where they are not, and the horses that they may run into there. The buckskin frowns, twisting his face up in an attempt to understand the possibilities laid before them but he's not used to linking the intricacies together. Everything seems as apt to fly to bits as to not. The only futures where they ever succeed show them leaving now. Immediately. The searing ache in the bones of his feet makes him pause and wince. There's no way he can walk that far.
"We could get there if we flew," he mumbles softly, more to himself, because he does not have wings and he does not know if Malik can take a shape that has them, but he sifts deeper into the shadow theater and finds it. There. There are futures where they fly, too. But how?
"Can you fly?" He asks, suddenly, pained expression brightening slightly, "I think... maybe I can fly too..."
But how? He's never done that before.
Raum
in every bird a black thought
@Malik
Please tag ratty or Raum* (<--with the asterisk) in threads!