Everclear
03-25-2024, 11:43 AM
EVERCLEAR
The Meadow remains a comfortable place for Everclear, as it always has. It is easy for him to travel between this neutral ground and back to his true home in the Gates – the path is familiar enough, even with the literal tides of time having shifted the land somewhat during his long absence from the true surface of the world. He finds himself here again today, attracted by the higher probability for conversation and engagement. Much as he is devoted to the Gates, the population there is sparse at present.
So he wanders, dark legs cutting easily through the fresh spring grasses. Sometimes it surprises him, when he stops to think on it, how he has never grown weary of seeing this place. Nearly two centuries of life have still not dulled the simple allure of the Meadow or its frequent visitors. Their names and faces are the only true change that seems to touch the socializing grounds – not even the shifting seasons could bring such newness to the place.
Except, perhaps, the fairies themselves. There seems to be a vast litany of lesser fae in the area today. They hover among the young new flowers and breathe life back into the faded winter earth, dashing everything in green and gold. The dappled stallion watches their merry work with passing amusement, a vague smile showing in his eyes more than on his lips.
The place truly is quite magical.
The touch of new life always kindles new hope, as well. He feels the surge of it even more significantly of late – hope that the Gates could be restored to their former glory, hope that he might be able to help it along the way, hope that there may be less evil in the world than there had been in the past. And of course, the gentle hope of meeting new faces, new friends.
Even something so simple could be exciting and stir awake the dreams in one's soul.
With these thoughts in mind, fading slightly to the wayside as he turns his attention back onto the open Meadow, he spies one of the glimmering fairies dancing excitedly around a dark-coated mare. Their exchange seems brief, but upon the fairy’s departure, the young mare takes on a mild change in appearance.
Already dainty in build and obvious youth, she appears even more refined. A gentle glow seems to surround her even in the midday sun, and Everclear tilts his head as, intrigued, he moves toward her. She looks downright angelic all of a sudden, something which draws him to her. He finds himself even more compelled to speak with her than he had already been.
“I believe you were just given a fairy’s gift,” he observes as he arrives within Golde’s earshot. His smile is visible now as he tosses his nose slightly in greeting. “That’s something quite special,” he commends her with a mild hint of awe. “I don't believe I've seen them with my own eyes since I was much younger.”
Although his words may hint otherwise, his physical appearance is hardly any older than her own, frozen in time as a three-year-old himself. It is only his eyes that truly testify to his age as he studies her calmly.
So he wanders, dark legs cutting easily through the fresh spring grasses. Sometimes it surprises him, when he stops to think on it, how he has never grown weary of seeing this place. Nearly two centuries of life have still not dulled the simple allure of the Meadow or its frequent visitors. Their names and faces are the only true change that seems to touch the socializing grounds – not even the shifting seasons could bring such newness to the place.
Except, perhaps, the fairies themselves. There seems to be a vast litany of lesser fae in the area today. They hover among the young new flowers and breathe life back into the faded winter earth, dashing everything in green and gold. The dappled stallion watches their merry work with passing amusement, a vague smile showing in his eyes more than on his lips.
The place truly is quite magical.
The touch of new life always kindles new hope, as well. He feels the surge of it even more significantly of late – hope that the Gates could be restored to their former glory, hope that he might be able to help it along the way, hope that there may be less evil in the world than there had been in the past. And of course, the gentle hope of meeting new faces, new friends.
Even something so simple could be exciting and stir awake the dreams in one's soul.
With these thoughts in mind, fading slightly to the wayside as he turns his attention back onto the open Meadow, he spies one of the glimmering fairies dancing excitedly around a dark-coated mare. Their exchange seems brief, but upon the fairy’s departure, the young mare takes on a mild change in appearance.
Already dainty in build and obvious youth, she appears even more refined. A gentle glow seems to surround her even in the midday sun, and Everclear tilts his head as, intrigued, he moves toward her. She looks downright angelic all of a sudden, something which draws him to her. He finds himself even more compelled to speak with her than he had already been.
“I believe you were just given a fairy’s gift,” he observes as he arrives within Golde’s earshot. His smile is visible now as he tosses his nose slightly in greeting. “That’s something quite special,” he commends her with a mild hint of awe. “I don't believe I've seen them with my own eyes since I was much younger.”
Although his words may hint otherwise, his physical appearance is hardly any older than her own, frozen in time as a three-year-old himself. It is only his eyes that truly testify to his age as he studies her calmly.
@Golde