He'd promised Eyas that she would find him rested and ready in the morning, and so the milk and cream stallion made an effort to bed down not far from where they'd agreed to meet come dawn. A pair of fat rabbits, rounded out with a sedate cropping of bunching grasses and he was ready to settle in for the night.
Like a dog, the winged stallion trampled a circle in the thick bracken ferns before lying down. Through the lacy intertwining branches overhead, he watched the sky shift from dusky blue to fiery pinks and oranges, and at last settle into a star flecked night. The steady chirp of crickets and a lonesome owl's cry lulled his racing mind with their night song, soothed the anxiety that had been building since he'd found the pegasus mare on her island hideaway.
Sleep claimed him. And he dreamed...
He dreamed of water, crystal and clear. It washed his hooves, drew curving lines in the golden sand with its ever changing brush. Tana smiled. Boyhood happiness illuminated his features, for he knew this place well. It was Ischia, where he and his brother had spent the bulk of their childhoods chasing parrots and racing on the sea strand. He could feel warm sun on his wings, and taste salt on his tongue. Happier days. If only he'd known it then.
He turned to move along the shore, and found the sand shifting and wobbling beneath his feet. The unstable surface threw him to his knees, made his wings flare out in a losing battle for balance. Every time he he tried to rise, he could get no more than a step or two further without the beach squirming beneath him and dropping him back down.
Snorting in annoyance, the pale stallion tried to fly. His wings wouldn't cooperate. Instead they hung leaden by his sides, refusing to lift high enough to beat the air. He tried to shift, and found no answering fire in his mind to call on. A parrot, red and green and blue, flew in a careless circle above him, cackling all the while before landing just out of reach of his nose.
"Did you think it would be that easy?" It taunted in Eyas' voice. He snarled at it in frustration.
"It will be! Just let me get my feet under me," he asked, somehow knowing it was her fault he couldn't stand. Her fault the earth kept tilting out from beneath him. If he could do that, then things would keep going, and he could set things right. It made sense to his dream-self. If only he could stand.
@[Catcher]
Like a dog, the winged stallion trampled a circle in the thick bracken ferns before lying down. Through the lacy intertwining branches overhead, he watched the sky shift from dusky blue to fiery pinks and oranges, and at last settle into a star flecked night. The steady chirp of crickets and a lonesome owl's cry lulled his racing mind with their night song, soothed the anxiety that had been building since he'd found the pegasus mare on her island hideaway.
Sleep claimed him. And he dreamed...
He dreamed of water, crystal and clear. It washed his hooves, drew curving lines in the golden sand with its ever changing brush. Tana smiled. Boyhood happiness illuminated his features, for he knew this place well. It was Ischia, where he and his brother had spent the bulk of their childhoods chasing parrots and racing on the sea strand. He could feel warm sun on his wings, and taste salt on his tongue. Happier days. If only he'd known it then.
He turned to move along the shore, and found the sand shifting and wobbling beneath his feet. The unstable surface threw him to his knees, made his wings flare out in a losing battle for balance. Every time he he tried to rise, he could get no more than a step or two further without the beach squirming beneath him and dropping him back down.
Snorting in annoyance, the pale stallion tried to fly. His wings wouldn't cooperate. Instead they hung leaden by his sides, refusing to lift high enough to beat the air. He tried to shift, and found no answering fire in his mind to call on. A parrot, red and green and blue, flew in a careless circle above him, cackling all the while before landing just out of reach of his nose.
"Did you think it would be that easy?" It taunted in Eyas' voice. He snarled at it in frustration.
"It will be! Just let me get my feet under me," he asked, somehow knowing it was her fault he couldn't stand. Her fault the earth kept tilting out from beneath him. If he could do that, then things would keep going, and he could set things right. It made sense to his dream-self. If only he could stand.
@[Catcher]