05-04-2020, 04:29 PM
She is busy laying in a bed of deep green grass, on her back and with those delicate legs all askew when a bird flies high above her. Except it’s bigger than a bird, and not at all bird shaped except for those beautiful white wings, so she sits up abruptly to watch it, her little glass tail waggling excitedly. But he passes by on a current of air headed for the sea, and so with a gasp she leaps to her feet and follows.
The path to the ocean is one she knows almost intimately by now - just as she knows the shape of every shell and the pattern of every fish. She inherited her love of the sea from her mother, content to spend long days with the water lapping at her hips and shoulders while she basks with eyes closed and the sun on her crimson face. Which means she’s quick to follow, darting as carefully as she can along her own secret trail until it opens wide to a beach made black with night.
She slows, and those impossibly delicate ears flicker in her shining forelock as she turns that golden gaze up and down the beach in search of those now-familiar white wings again. Could it have been one of her brothers maybe? No, not Thorn, his wings have more black where they stretch from his shoulders. Tamlin then? She slips out into the sand to the hiss of sediment against the shining red glass of those delicate legs.
But the shape that coalesces from the shifting of volcanic ash and the deep dark of a star-strewn night is most certainly not her big brother. Her stride slows and she examines him with all the contemplation of a little yearling filly, her eyes narrowed curiously and her head tipped to one side. What if he’s not nice? Except she’s never actually met anyone not nice, so she immediately, and literally, shakes the thought from her mind and plunges back into motion towards him.
“Hello,” she says, warm and friendly, as though he would have no reason to feel startled by having a talking glass figurine come out of the dark in the middle of nowhere to come chat at him, “I saw you fly by, your wings are very beautiful! For a minute I thought you were my brother Tamlin, but you’re not.” It’s probably good she clarified that, just in case he wasn’t sure. “You actually look a lot like my family.” She realizes, musing thoughtfully as she takes a step closer to really admire those wings and the deep curves of his horns with luminous golden eyes. “Bea, Rosine, Tamlin, Thorn and daddy all have wings, and Tangled and mama have antlers.”
She’s sad for just the briefest moment, because how can a stranger look more like her family than she does? But the flicker of pain passes, and that gentleness returns to her almost frozen expression again as she reaches out to help him fix a few of the askew feathers he had missed. “Anyway, it’s okay that you aren’t Tamlin, it’s still nice to meet you. My name is Flower.”
The path to the ocean is one she knows almost intimately by now - just as she knows the shape of every shell and the pattern of every fish. She inherited her love of the sea from her mother, content to spend long days with the water lapping at her hips and shoulders while she basks with eyes closed and the sun on her crimson face. Which means she’s quick to follow, darting as carefully as she can along her own secret trail until it opens wide to a beach made black with night.
She slows, and those impossibly delicate ears flicker in her shining forelock as she turns that golden gaze up and down the beach in search of those now-familiar white wings again. Could it have been one of her brothers maybe? No, not Thorn, his wings have more black where they stretch from his shoulders. Tamlin then? She slips out into the sand to the hiss of sediment against the shining red glass of those delicate legs.
But the shape that coalesces from the shifting of volcanic ash and the deep dark of a star-strewn night is most certainly not her big brother. Her stride slows and she examines him with all the contemplation of a little yearling filly, her eyes narrowed curiously and her head tipped to one side. What if he’s not nice? Except she’s never actually met anyone not nice, so she immediately, and literally, shakes the thought from her mind and plunges back into motion towards him.
“Hello,” she says, warm and friendly, as though he would have no reason to feel startled by having a talking glass figurine come out of the dark in the middle of nowhere to come chat at him, “I saw you fly by, your wings are very beautiful! For a minute I thought you were my brother Tamlin, but you’re not.” It’s probably good she clarified that, just in case he wasn’t sure. “You actually look a lot like my family.” She realizes, musing thoughtfully as she takes a step closer to really admire those wings and the deep curves of his horns with luminous golden eyes. “Bea, Rosine, Tamlin, Thorn and daddy all have wings, and Tangled and mama have antlers.”
She’s sad for just the briefest moment, because how can a stranger look more like her family than she does? But the flicker of pain passes, and that gentleness returns to her almost frozen expression again as she reaches out to help him fix a few of the askew feathers he had missed. “Anyway, it’s okay that you aren’t Tamlin, it’s still nice to meet you. My name is Flower.”
FLOWER
i'm only steady on my knees
@[Warden]