02-08-2019, 07:05 PM
A long silence follows in the wake of Wyrm’s words. Without eyes he studies her with his mind, patiently and silently recalling the memories they spun together, pulling the long-forgotten images from a dark, dank corner in his head.
Heartfire was the closest thing he’d ever had to a friend. Long, long ago he’d had a half sister, but his distaste for her existence was immediate and resulted in their mutual parting of ways. After that it was the roan mare - and only the roan mare - who could coax him into the semblance of a normal, functioning horse.
Every other living creature, right up until Epithet sparked a very brief respite from constant boredom, tested his reserve and drove the blue stallion further into hermitage. It was simple fact: Heartfire’s life eclipsed over his and those moments were near to perfection. Nothing else he could recall would ever come close to shining in the same brilliance.
Not until he would complete the cycle, fulfill the prophecy. Not until then.
“Because,” He sighs, turning himself at the molecular level, changing in density so that he begins to sink into the earth. He feels tired just now, so incredibly aged. “if our roles were reversed and you came to me like this - weak, I mean. You know I’m weak.” The ghostly apparition goes off track, only a head and bony hips exposed above the ground. He looks like he’s gone for a swim in the forest floor.
“If you came to me like this and asked me the same thing, regardless of future or past, I would send the message.” Wyrm mutters.
Her rational side might disagree, but in the quiet minutes of reflection she would come to another conclusion. She would (perhaps begrudgingly) have to admit it was possible.
“Let him see and decide for himself. Send it Heartfire.” He sighs again, defeated.
“Please.”
@[Heartfire]
Heartfire was the closest thing he’d ever had to a friend. Long, long ago he’d had a half sister, but his distaste for her existence was immediate and resulted in their mutual parting of ways. After that it was the roan mare - and only the roan mare - who could coax him into the semblance of a normal, functioning horse.
Every other living creature, right up until Epithet sparked a very brief respite from constant boredom, tested his reserve and drove the blue stallion further into hermitage. It was simple fact: Heartfire’s life eclipsed over his and those moments were near to perfection. Nothing else he could recall would ever come close to shining in the same brilliance.
Not until he would complete the cycle, fulfill the prophecy. Not until then.
“Because,” He sighs, turning himself at the molecular level, changing in density so that he begins to sink into the earth. He feels tired just now, so incredibly aged. “if our roles were reversed and you came to me like this - weak, I mean. You know I’m weak.” The ghostly apparition goes off track, only a head and bony hips exposed above the ground. He looks like he’s gone for a swim in the forest floor.
“If you came to me like this and asked me the same thing, regardless of future or past, I would send the message.” Wyrm mutters.
Her rational side might disagree, but in the quiet minutes of reflection she would come to another conclusion. She would (perhaps begrudgingly) have to admit it was possible.
“Let him see and decide for himself. Send it Heartfire.” He sighs again, defeated.
“Please.”
@[Heartfire]