10-31-2019, 12:22 AM
(This post was last modified: 11-01-2019, 11:36 AM by Wysteria Fairy.)
The forest, near the meadow.
The description was vague, yet her eyes dart south like needles to a lodestone. Everything is a blur from this altitude, and the haze of falling snow distorts it further; all of Beqanna beneath the pegasus is a grey-blue-brown murk. She rises higher still, the muscles of her shoulders shifting, those of her wings straining harder, until there is nothing but grey above and grey below and a paltry bit of light from the weak winter sun.
The world is empty here.
Cold air chafes her raw throat, freezes the damp trail tears had taken down her golden cheeks, slices across her red-rimmed eyes. Lepis feels these physical things: the discomfort, the ache, the soreness. They are all she feels.
She’d lost her grip on her magic days ago, standing beside the Taigan stones where Gale had broken. This is not the first time she had lost it: most mornings of her adolescence in Sylva, the evening her wings were broken, the day they had buried Gale. The magic has always come back before, slipping back to her an hour at a time: sadness first, then anger, and last was always joy. It had been returning this time as well, the pace lethargic but at least familiar. Lepis had already held a steady fist around sadness and was reaching toward anger when Starsin had found her in the borderlands.
Ripped away, sometime between ‘the forest, near the meadow’ and the sound of her own broken ‘why?’. Gone completely, her gift and her own emotions. Lepis thinks with what might have been a bitter smile that she is far more grey and cold than the world around her.
Ahead of her - a mountainside appears.
She slows, but it is not graceful or quick enough. Her knees hit stone not long before her wings do. Hard impacts that have her sucking air sharply between her teeth and releasing it as a groan. Nothing broken - she knows what that feels like - but little is left unbruised or dry as the dun mare pulls herself back to her feet from the snowbank. The snowfall here is thick, but the wind is gone entirely; the world is blanketed in silent white. Lepis’ breath curls ahead of her like a plume of dragon-smoke but she does not move once she is standing.
Something moves in the snow, she thinks, something just over there.
ooc: lepis is subconsciously here to get her emotional projection back, even though it’s not really gone. i was thinking it might be cool if she got something else like emotional manipulation or empathy/negative empathy or something sort of like that
The description was vague, yet her eyes dart south like needles to a lodestone. Everything is a blur from this altitude, and the haze of falling snow distorts it further; all of Beqanna beneath the pegasus is a grey-blue-brown murk. She rises higher still, the muscles of her shoulders shifting, those of her wings straining harder, until there is nothing but grey above and grey below and a paltry bit of light from the weak winter sun.
The world is empty here.
Cold air chafes her raw throat, freezes the damp trail tears had taken down her golden cheeks, slices across her red-rimmed eyes. Lepis feels these physical things: the discomfort, the ache, the soreness. They are all she feels.
She’d lost her grip on her magic days ago, standing beside the Taigan stones where Gale had broken. This is not the first time she had lost it: most mornings of her adolescence in Sylva, the evening her wings were broken, the day they had buried Gale. The magic has always come back before, slipping back to her an hour at a time: sadness first, then anger, and last was always joy. It had been returning this time as well, the pace lethargic but at least familiar. Lepis had already held a steady fist around sadness and was reaching toward anger when Starsin had found her in the borderlands.
Ripped away, sometime between ‘the forest, near the meadow’ and the sound of her own broken ‘why?’. Gone completely, her gift and her own emotions. Lepis thinks with what might have been a bitter smile that she is far more grey and cold than the world around her.
Ahead of her - a mountainside appears.
She slows, but it is not graceful or quick enough. Her knees hit stone not long before her wings do. Hard impacts that have her sucking air sharply between her teeth and releasing it as a groan. Nothing broken - she knows what that feels like - but little is left unbruised or dry as the dun mare pulls herself back to her feet from the snowbank. The snowfall here is thick, but the wind is gone entirely; the world is blanketed in silent white. Lepis’ breath curls ahead of her like a plume of dragon-smoke but she does not move once she is standing.
Something moves in the snow, she thinks, something just over there.
ooc: lepis is subconsciously here to get her emotional projection back, even though it’s not really gone. i was thinking it might be cool if she got something else like emotional manipulation or empathy/negative empathy or something sort of like that
