He can still smell the smoke. It's like it's permanently ingrained in his head, embedded in his nostrils, refusing to let any other scent through. Warbird suspects it's all in his head; horses don't just lose their sense of smell, but the lingering stink of ash and burning bodies is bothersome. It serves as a constant reminder of the destruction he left behind.
A burning kingdom, wasting away amidst the roiling of black magic. A war lost, light buried beneath the snakelike coils of the night.
Warbird sighs, watching the scenery go by below him. His wings are tired and his muscles ache -- this is the farthest he's ever flown without stopping. Warstorm won't have the same endurance. It's unlikely she's made it much farther. It's time for him to set down and see if he can find his daughter.
One of them. Pain strikes through the heart at the memory, and Warbird flinches visibly. He tries not to think about it much, as there is little to be done but move forward and do his best to defend the filly he has left so that Warsong's death won't be in vain. But he misses her so. Her absence represents another of his many failures as a king.
Spotting a clearing, Warbird tilts his wings and spirals downward. He lands at a fast canter, nostrils open and blowing from the effort as he tucks his rear and lopes to a halt. Panting, brown eyes cast about, either for danger or company. The stallion has no idea what he will find here.
WARBIRD but icarus flew too high 
I've found myself spending more and more time in the forest. It's quiet there, away from the kingdom's occupants and their snarling, smoky ways. I've been a fish among dragons for such a long time, and it's getting exhausting. So the woods it is. The trees cast deep shadows that mute my electric coat by shades.
It's peaceful in the dappled light. Too peaceful, really, but the change of scenery is welcome. Until the snapping of branches overhead jerks my attention upwards. A flurry of flailing legs and scattered leaves heralded the shattering of my peaceful morning. Joy.
My ears twist with dull interest as the autumn coated horse drops from the sky. A flicker of a grin twitches my lips as the sunlight glints on the jagged points of his antlers. "That's one way to make an entrance." I observed blandly. My head tilted to one side as the heavy-breathing stag got his bearings, the gold tinted fin of my crest flipping from one side to the other.
"You lost?" I ask, noting the uneasy look in his eyes. I haven't decided just yet, to be naughty or nice. Could go either way, but I'm feeling a little sweeter than usual today. Almost nice, even. The white blocks of my teeth shine in the half light as I offer him a smile, the lightning scars that cobweb my shoulders and haunches flickering with my heartbeat.
@[Warbird]
It isn't every day he gets snuck upon. It' isn't impossible, no, and he is especially vulnerable after landing before he can get his bearings, but good Lord, does he get a good shot of prey-instinct fright at the sudden appearance of the mare. After jolting, Warbird snorts and swats his long, blonde tail a few times, blinking. What on Earth...?
What he sees, the pegasus is quite sure he's never seen before. She is lovely in her own way, and wildly unique -- her coat is intensely bright, and she sports lovely golden fins adorning her head, neck, and spine. Wings just as brilliant as the rest of her adorn her back. But most eye catching of all are her markings. Scars? Warbird is not sure which they are, but they pulse... and he imagines it to the beat of her heart.
The mare is truly something to behold.
"Ah, my deepest apologize, miss," the pegasus breathes, voice deep and cultured. Politely, Warbird lowers his antlers in a small bow. "Greetings. I am afraid I am, indeed, quite lost. I am new here -- my daughter and I were separated in our travels. Have you seen her? About my size, antlers, wings?"
Warbird stomps a hoof, tutting at himself. "Oh, where are my manners? Warbird, at your service. You are...?"
WARBIRD but icarus flew too high
He's refined, the way he speaks. Like his manners will make a difference. And maybe they will, in the grand scheme of things. I'm no seer, I have no way of knowing, of course. But he certainly seems to have lived a posher life than little ol' rough and tumble me.
I brushed off his apology with little mind, the words rolling down my back as his brief story unfolded. So neatly he spoke, and idle wonder took my mind, curiousity if he we're so neat and refined in other aspects of his life. A look of sympathy hitched upon my face, softening the hard edges just a little.
"No, I'm afraid I haven't seen anyone like you before." Not strictly true, there were a surprising number of equids in the area sporting wings and or antlers. But none that looked like they could be his child. Those markings were rather distinctive, almost as distinctive as my own.
A candy-sweet smile lifted my inky lips at his introduction. There we go with manners again. Dear gods, was it exhausting to be this polite all the time? But I had decided to play the game this morning, so play I would. With a silky soft voice, I returned the niceties. "Warbird seems like a perfectly wonderful name for you. I'm Belle. I live in Loess, the kingdom on the other side of these woods."
One of my blue-tipped wings stretched forward to gesture in the direction I meant, brushing just by the stallion's shoulder. "I could take you there, if you like. If your daughter is nearby, I'm sure someone there will know." I suggest as the feathered limb returns slowly to its place by my side. I await his answer in the dappled light of the forest floor, gleaming where the weak light hits me with a rainbow of colors.
@[Warbird]
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![[Image: CqmvRSM.png]](https://i.imgur.com/CqmvRSM.png)
