04-02-2016, 03:53 PM
Butterflies are self propelled flowers.
As a sigh escaped from her dark lips the girl turns herself around to silently look at her slightly stretched right wing. The blue feathers moving slightly in the spring breeze. She loved the feeling of the wind underneath her wings, it gave her some sense of freedom, but she had yet to take the sky. Somehow Vlinder hadn’t been able to manage to get herself up in the air, to use her wings to fly, instead of having them at her side to be pretty. The black roan girl had seen the looks upon her parents and older sister’s features, like she was special and great, but thus far she felt like she had only been disappointing them. The wings that should be great hadn’t been much special.
Before tucking the wing at her side again she now lifts both, shaking them in an attempt to get the stiffness out of her muscles. It still took her quite some effort to keep them folded against her body, Vlinder simply found them too heavy, but she had soon learned that myalgia was much better do deal with than the looks. It also wasn’t too graceful to let your wings drag across the ground, bumping into everything that came into a meter radius of her. So she had learned herself to keep them up the best she could.
The looks was what she hated the most. The concern in her parent’s eyes, the pity in those of others, but the worst were the ones that looked down on her. She felt like a disappointment, a failure. Why couldn’t she just fly, like the other winged ones that she had seen around? They all looked happy and satisfied up in the air, her parents did too, although they had to shift before they were able to leave the ground. But like Vlinder her older sister Besra was grounded, unable to fly.
It was her sister for who she was looking. Her mother had slowly started to accept that her baby girl wasn’t around every moment of the day and that had lifted some weight of Vlinder’s shoulders. When she wasn’t at the cobalt blue roan’s side she wouldn’t be confronted by those looks. Right now she wanted to see her blue haired sister. Maybe Besra would understand, maybe Besra would be able to comfort her in a way their mother couldn’t. She ponders if her sister would understand, after all, she was just like her, but different in some ways too.
Before tucking the wing at her side again she now lifts both, shaking them in an attempt to get the stiffness out of her muscles. It still took her quite some effort to keep them folded against her body, Vlinder simply found them too heavy, but she had soon learned that myalgia was much better do deal with than the looks. It also wasn’t too graceful to let your wings drag across the ground, bumping into everything that came into a meter radius of her. So she had learned herself to keep them up the best she could.
The looks was what she hated the most. The concern in her parent’s eyes, the pity in those of others, but the worst were the ones that looked down on her. She felt like a disappointment, a failure. Why couldn’t she just fly, like the other winged ones that she had seen around? They all looked happy and satisfied up in the air, her parents did too, although they had to shift before they were able to leave the ground. But like Vlinder her older sister Besra was grounded, unable to fly.
It was her sister for who she was looking. Her mother had slowly started to accept that her baby girl wasn’t around every moment of the day and that had lifted some weight of Vlinder’s shoulders. When she wasn’t at the cobalt blue roan’s side she wouldn’t be confronted by those looks. Right now she wanted to see her blue haired sister. Maybe Besra would understand, maybe Besra would be able to comfort her in a way their mother couldn’t. She ponders if her sister would understand, after all, she was just like her, but different in some ways too.
Vlinder
Zeik x Felinae