04-14-2020, 04:05 PM
oceane
with tremulous cadence slow, and bring
the eternal note of sadness in
the eternal note of sadness in
Deep inhales of clean air, devoid of dust. The sun on her opaline back. Summertime thermals keeping her afloat. Powerful strokes of her massive wings.
By the time she slows ─ by the time they slow, Oceane is breathy and tired. And yet, she feels rejuvenated. Nearly a year has come and gone since the pegasi woman had followed Draco willingly into the confines of Pangea. A year since she has seen anything outside of the wasteland. A year since seeing her son.
It's in the Forest that the pair alights. Oceane folds her balefire wings to cradle her frame, registering the ache of those unused muscles in the back of her mind. She is thinner than when she left Loess, having found that being a captive came with a noticeable lack of appetite, but not unhealthy. If Castile listens closely, though, he will hear the way she nearly wheezes as she tries to catch her breath. Neither the lack of flying or the dust that coated everything in Pangea had been kind to her lungs. Oceane coughs once, over her shoulder, before turning her gaze back on the familiar piebald stallion.
She has many questions, and they all vie for position in her mind. How is Alcinder? Why did you abdicate? Why Icicle Isle? But none seem like the correct first question to ask. She knows that Castile will give her the answers that he deems are most important to her, but first ─
"Thank you."
Intended to be confident and airy, her thanks comes out as a whisper. Her throat tightens, and Oceane wills the emotion away with a simple clearing of her throat before turning her bright amber eyes on the gold-banded stallion. Starved for affection, she closes the distance between them and wraps her neck over his in a warm, but brief, embrace.
"Thank you," she repeats, before looking to him expectantly.
By the time she slows ─ by the time they slow, Oceane is breathy and tired. And yet, she feels rejuvenated. Nearly a year has come and gone since the pegasi woman had followed Draco willingly into the confines of Pangea. A year since she has seen anything outside of the wasteland. A year since seeing her son.
It's in the Forest that the pair alights. Oceane folds her balefire wings to cradle her frame, registering the ache of those unused muscles in the back of her mind. She is thinner than when she left Loess, having found that being a captive came with a noticeable lack of appetite, but not unhealthy. If Castile listens closely, though, he will hear the way she nearly wheezes as she tries to catch her breath. Neither the lack of flying or the dust that coated everything in Pangea had been kind to her lungs. Oceane coughs once, over her shoulder, before turning her gaze back on the familiar piebald stallion.
She has many questions, and they all vie for position in her mind. How is Alcinder? Why did you abdicate? Why Icicle Isle? But none seem like the correct first question to ask. She knows that Castile will give her the answers that he deems are most important to her, but first ─
"Thank you."
Intended to be confident and airy, her thanks comes out as a whisper. Her throat tightens, and Oceane wills the emotion away with a simple clearing of her throat before turning her bright amber eyes on the gold-banded stallion. Starved for affection, she closes the distance between them and wraps her neck over his in a warm, but brief, embrace.
"Thank you," she repeats, before looking to him expectantly.
"@[Castile]"
i must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
and all i ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by
and all i ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by