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Aodhán
little fire
All that is gold does not glitter; not all who wander are lost
The flower-smelling mare in the Field - half a year ago? He wasn’t sure - had been cute, though he hadn’t paid as much attention to what she said about her home back then, as much as he needed to find a way to be a horse again.
Now, his shifting abilities had grown, and he could not shift by description - but it was a process he still needed to work on. Some days he dreamt weird things, and if he dreamt of his former home he might wake up a rock once more. Or, in the case of this particular day, a flower.
It had been… interesting, at least more so than being a rock had been. Being a flower had meant that he had quickly been touched by a grazing animal though, and so he’d been more aware that he should probably be something with a brain (although a flower’s nervous system had been more extensive than a sentient rock’s) and so he’d taken flight. After all, he still needed to practice, and thus the falcon had headed to the land he had been thinking about - a field of flowers, carrying the scent of the mare from the Field.
The falcon, however could not see many horses from above, the land appearing very silent. While that was a good thing in one way, it reminded him of the Taiga - his biggest fear that this little piece of paradise would be taken over as well.
As it was though, it looked perfect. The bird landed in the middle of the flowery field, and was a young, sturdy, baroque stallion once more.
Aodhán called out. If this was a potential home, someone should be living here, right?
Now, his shifting abilities had grown, and he could not shift by description - but it was a process he still needed to work on. Some days he dreamt weird things, and if he dreamt of his former home he might wake up a rock once more. Or, in the case of this particular day, a flower.
It had been… interesting, at least more so than being a rock had been. Being a flower had meant that he had quickly been touched by a grazing animal though, and so he’d been more aware that he should probably be something with a brain (although a flower’s nervous system had been more extensive than a sentient rock’s) and so he’d taken flight. After all, he still needed to practice, and thus the falcon had headed to the land he had been thinking about - a field of flowers, carrying the scent of the mare from the Field.
The falcon, however could not see many horses from above, the land appearing very silent. While that was a good thing in one way, it reminded him of the Taiga - his biggest fear that this little piece of paradise would be taken over as well.
As it was though, it looked perfect. The bird landed in the middle of the flowery field, and was a young, sturdy, baroque stallion once more.
Aodhán called out. If this was a potential home, someone should be living here, right?
@[Odelia] If you’d still like to thread, maybe we could reuse this and tilt it to the present day?