05-27-2017, 09:21 AM
Summer is beginning to make its way through Tephra – it always feels like it shows up earlier than the rest of Beqanna. The hot and humid air sticks mercilessly against the auburn of his skin, even at early daybreak, his body sweating profusely in attempts to cool him. There were a few days where Warrick would feel the cool and light breezes of spring on the wind, but today was damp and thick as the sun came above the horizon, waves of heat flickering in the distant shoreline. He has become accustomed to such year-round temperatures, and he wonders what would happen if he ventured out of Tephra during the winter (or even the autumn) months – his coat would be sleek and shining, not at all grown out in preparations for cooler weather. Maybe during the summer, where Tephra was at its hottest, he would go explore other lands and relieve himself from the stickiness of summer heat.
He wonders if he even should think about leaving, even if it’s temporary. Besides some random visitors from Sylva, Warrick was beginning to feel like he was the only one in Tephra. He doesn’t believe for a second that Lucrezia isn’t actually here – but his cerulean eyes continue to scan the horizon for his winged leader in hopes that he would be reassured he was not alone. His large, somber eyes also hope to find a glimmer of pale gold, and stark white feathers, but Ellyse’s scent is no where to be found on the wind. It saddens him, to think she is somewhere on her own and without any clue to if she would return home. He always hates uncertainty. Maybe Magnus would be with her; then maybe he would see the light in her eyes again, and that would all be worth her absence. He does not want it to, but his mind cannot help but wander to Tang. He stares up at the blazing sun as it rises, eyes closing as its rays hit his skin, burning fiercely. It’s golden light spreads oranges and pinks across a dark blue sky, the stars fading as dawn set in. She is the sun, and he is the moon. And just like the sun returns to the sky every day, he had to believe that she would return to him in the colder months like she promised.
Oh, but sincerity and intention can only go so far. Warrick is a mess, wrought with a shadow that he cannot shake – not yet, anyways. Her words were true and she believed them wholeheartedly, and Warrick would have nothing if he did not believe her. But there is a prick of uncertainty that quakes at the hollow of his being, reminding him that abandonment and loneliness is all he knows and deserves.
Warrick snorts softly as the wind begins to pick up, the sultry air bringing some relief to his already sweating body. The air also brings something new, something unfamiliar to him. His blue-tipped ears prick curiously forward as he begins to walk, cobalt legs moving quietly through the tropical foliage. Broad, fat leaves heavy with moisture part as he pushes through, their dampness soaking his chest and shoulders as they brush against him. It does not take him long to find her (he was particularly good at patrolling the borders of Tephra). The indigo of her coat and the patterned wings at her side are brilliant against the dark green of the flora around them. He snorts, making his presence known to her although he did not make it a secret that he had been approaching her. Even within the denseness of the jungle, the heat from the sun was already making its way harshly onto their skin, playing golden patterns on their coats. “Good morning,” he says to the stranger with a slight dip of his head, causing his tangled black forelock to fall into the brightness of his blue eyes. “My name is Warrick.” He pauses as the sounds of birds and other animals filling the thick air as the jungle comes to life. “What brings you to Tephra?”
He wonders if he even should think about leaving, even if it’s temporary. Besides some random visitors from Sylva, Warrick was beginning to feel like he was the only one in Tephra. He doesn’t believe for a second that Lucrezia isn’t actually here – but his cerulean eyes continue to scan the horizon for his winged leader in hopes that he would be reassured he was not alone. His large, somber eyes also hope to find a glimmer of pale gold, and stark white feathers, but Ellyse’s scent is no where to be found on the wind. It saddens him, to think she is somewhere on her own and without any clue to if she would return home. He always hates uncertainty. Maybe Magnus would be with her; then maybe he would see the light in her eyes again, and that would all be worth her absence. He does not want it to, but his mind cannot help but wander to Tang. He stares up at the blazing sun as it rises, eyes closing as its rays hit his skin, burning fiercely. It’s golden light spreads oranges and pinks across a dark blue sky, the stars fading as dawn set in. She is the sun, and he is the moon. And just like the sun returns to the sky every day, he had to believe that she would return to him in the colder months like she promised.
Oh, but sincerity and intention can only go so far. Warrick is a mess, wrought with a shadow that he cannot shake – not yet, anyways. Her words were true and she believed them wholeheartedly, and Warrick would have nothing if he did not believe her. But there is a prick of uncertainty that quakes at the hollow of his being, reminding him that abandonment and loneliness is all he knows and deserves.
Warrick snorts softly as the wind begins to pick up, the sultry air bringing some relief to his already sweating body. The air also brings something new, something unfamiliar to him. His blue-tipped ears prick curiously forward as he begins to walk, cobalt legs moving quietly through the tropical foliage. Broad, fat leaves heavy with moisture part as he pushes through, their dampness soaking his chest and shoulders as they brush against him. It does not take him long to find her (he was particularly good at patrolling the borders of Tephra). The indigo of her coat and the patterned wings at her side are brilliant against the dark green of the flora around them. He snorts, making his presence known to her although he did not make it a secret that he had been approaching her. Even within the denseness of the jungle, the heat from the sun was already making its way harshly onto their skin, playing golden patterns on their coats. “Good morning,” he says to the stranger with a slight dip of his head, causing his tangled black forelock to fall into the brightness of his blue eyes. “My name is Warrick.” He pauses as the sounds of birds and other animals filling the thick air as the jungle comes to life. “What brings you to Tephra?”
like the sun,
swallowed up by the earth
warrick