11-29-2020, 05:45 PM
stifled the choice and the air in my lungs;
better not to breathe than to breathe a lie
Tiercel guesses that all things eventually return to the place of their origin. Salmon push against the current to reach their birthing pool, deer curl themselves in thickets deep within the woods, and even the birds send their final breaths across twigs like their first nest.
Like all these creatures and more, Tiercel finds himself at Loess’s western border. The place where he was born, where he grew up, where he was not-parented compared to his other siblings. This section of the border has always been his favorite. Hyaline’s mountain ranges melt into the red rock formations, creating a labyrinth of twisting paths carved from stone and sand. Not as many horses flock to the complicated trails, scared to get lost in the complicated pattern of trails and switchbacks. Yet Tiercel had taken comfort in this unique patchwork of Loess as a child. It took his siblings longer to find him when he hid here; despite his family’s winged capabilities, it was much harder to find a nimble little body from the sky when they were concealed among the rock formations.
His young mind had mapped out the trails, his older mind has remembered them, and Tiercel is pleased that there are minimal deviations from the original pathways. As he follows a steep incline that eventually gives way to a plateau of red rock, he notes the difference in greenery. Signs of plant life have begun to poke out of the soil in stable patches, yet their youth suggest that something had destroyed their ancestors in recent history.
Tiercel enjoys the way the hike burns at his muscles and he crests the top of the incline as the sound of a hawk cries above his head. The plateau stands a hundred feet above the path below. The path has been cut from the familiar shape of an ancient, dried creekbed that weaves its way between plateaus. Behind his navy shoulders, Tiercel can feel the looming gaze of Hyaline’s mountains. A contented sigh leaves his chest as he wraps himself in a feeling of comfort, relaxing into the memories of home.
Like all these creatures and more, Tiercel finds himself at Loess’s western border. The place where he was born, where he grew up, where he was not-parented compared to his other siblings. This section of the border has always been his favorite. Hyaline’s mountain ranges melt into the red rock formations, creating a labyrinth of twisting paths carved from stone and sand. Not as many horses flock to the complicated trails, scared to get lost in the complicated pattern of trails and switchbacks. Yet Tiercel had taken comfort in this unique patchwork of Loess as a child. It took his siblings longer to find him when he hid here; despite his family’s winged capabilities, it was much harder to find a nimble little body from the sky when they were concealed among the rock formations.
His young mind had mapped out the trails, his older mind has remembered them, and Tiercel is pleased that there are minimal deviations from the original pathways. As he follows a steep incline that eventually gives way to a plateau of red rock, he notes the difference in greenery. Signs of plant life have begun to poke out of the soil in stable patches, yet their youth suggest that something had destroyed their ancestors in recent history.
Tiercel enjoys the way the hike burns at his muscles and he crests the top of the incline as the sound of a hawk cries above his head. The plateau stands a hundred feet above the path below. The path has been cut from the familiar shape of an ancient, dried creekbed that weaves its way between plateaus. Behind his navy shoulders, Tiercel can feel the looming gaze of Hyaline’s mountains. A contented sigh leaves his chest as he wraps himself in a feeling of comfort, relaxing into the memories of home.
tiercel.
Open to anyone! <3