through the fire and the flames
When she turns her head, he pauses. Not out of the fear that has so diligently dogged his trail since the moment he had washed up on the burnt beach of the Isle. No… It is the stinging trails along his skin that makes him halt. It is the burning sensation, welts and thin lacerations raising over jaguar spots, as Terror who had clung to him with no remorse looks upon her halo and digs its claws into him with desperation as its pulled further and further away from them. There is such an intensity of hatred that oozes from the soul ("Angel" it seethes at her) and it’s something he has never experienced before. Not even close to the resentment he had been so sure he had heard at birth.
He winces and then it is gone, leaving just the two of them. She turns fully towards him then, sending soft waves of golden dust to dance towards the grass below, with a kind answer and a question of her own. He looks into the darkness of her gaze, so dark he can barely catch the reflection from the flames that flicker along his rusty mane, and smiles at what he finds there. As if a weight has been lifted merely by her looking at him. “I’m Fyr.” He responds, his voice softer to match her own, but there is no offering of two pronunciations this time. There is no need for fear here, something that he can feel for certain without truly understanding it.
There is quiet for a moment as he thinks of where he has ended up. Hyaline was it? This side of Beqanna was foreign to him and the fire along his spine smolders as he takes a second to think. Pangea was close to the lake kingdom wasn’t it? Something to consider in his hunt for Aela and the rest of his missing Pampa’s family. For now though… For now he is curious about the winged white mare who had simply banished such a strong pestering spirit merely by looking at it. “Who are you?” He asks and there is much more loaded into his question than merely asking for her name.
He winces and then it is gone, leaving just the two of them. She turns fully towards him then, sending soft waves of golden dust to dance towards the grass below, with a kind answer and a question of her own. He looks into the darkness of her gaze, so dark he can barely catch the reflection from the flames that flicker along his rusty mane, and smiles at what he finds there. As if a weight has been lifted merely by her looking at him. “I’m Fyr.” He responds, his voice softer to match her own, but there is no offering of two pronunciations this time. There is no need for fear here, something that he can feel for certain without truly understanding it.
There is quiet for a moment as he thinks of where he has ended up. Hyaline was it? This side of Beqanna was foreign to him and the fire along his spine smolders as he takes a second to think. Pangea was close to the lake kingdom wasn’t it? Something to consider in his hunt for Aela and the rest of his missing Pampa’s family. For now though… For now he is curious about the winged white mare who had simply banished such a strong pestering spirit merely by looking at it. “Who are you?” He asks and there is much more loaded into his question than merely asking for her name.
Fyr
@Ryatah