02-14-2021, 09:50 PM
this ain't no place for no hero
He is brave but still wide-eyed as he moves through Pangea.
He’s been promised monsters, after all. Asena had told him he would be met with a multitude of dragons when he descended into the canyons of the land. But even as he slides precariously down steep inclines in the near total darkness, even as he treks deeper and loses himself in the sinuous ravines, he still doesn’t spot a dragon at the start of his adventure.
There are many places one such beast could tuck itself into though, Volos finds. He exhales little bursts of fire to see into the darkest spaces he comes across. There are a few pairs of eyes that shine back at him, all of which are small creatures he has no names for, and all of which are similarly terrified by the sudden brightness. He apologizes to each of them in earnest before he moves on. None of the eyes are large enough to be a dragon peering back at him, fearless in the face of his fire.
Giving up his search when the scratch of his throat becomes too much to bear, the yearling hears the telltale susurration of water over sandstone and goes to it. With one last burst of sputtering fire between his lips, he aims it over the body of water just before his hooves. The reds and oranges of his fire paint the surface of the river and reveal its vastness all at once. Asena hadn’t told him about this. He couldn’t imagine such an otherwise dry, dusty place could harbor such a treasure. And for the island-born boy, it is a treasure indeed.
Volos leaps in with reckless abandon, the water as home to him as much as anything else could be. He thinks he will call off the search for a Pangean dragon and make his way to the common lands that he’s heard so much about but hasn’t yet explored. He gorges himself on water that tastes almost like copper as it slides down his throat. He pays the taste no mind; surely the water is not the only difference he will experience in a life that stretches wide open ahead of him. He’s smiling easily at that thought when he realizes he’s not alone.
“Hello,” the boy calls back, hearing the stranger’s splashing approach from down the current. He moves to intercept her, not wanting her to put in all the work even if he can hardly move with all the water sloshing in his belly. “Not your father.” A crooked grin finds his lips as he states the obvious. “I’m Volos.” It should be impossible to see her in the eternal night, but her porcelain coat makes her just the tiniest bit more visible. “Is your dad a dragon, by chance?”
He’s been promised monsters, after all. Asena had told him he would be met with a multitude of dragons when he descended into the canyons of the land. But even as he slides precariously down steep inclines in the near total darkness, even as he treks deeper and loses himself in the sinuous ravines, he still doesn’t spot a dragon at the start of his adventure.
There are many places one such beast could tuck itself into though, Volos finds. He exhales little bursts of fire to see into the darkest spaces he comes across. There are a few pairs of eyes that shine back at him, all of which are small creatures he has no names for, and all of which are similarly terrified by the sudden brightness. He apologizes to each of them in earnest before he moves on. None of the eyes are large enough to be a dragon peering back at him, fearless in the face of his fire.
Giving up his search when the scratch of his throat becomes too much to bear, the yearling hears the telltale susurration of water over sandstone and goes to it. With one last burst of sputtering fire between his lips, he aims it over the body of water just before his hooves. The reds and oranges of his fire paint the surface of the river and reveal its vastness all at once. Asena hadn’t told him about this. He couldn’t imagine such an otherwise dry, dusty place could harbor such a treasure. And for the island-born boy, it is a treasure indeed.
Volos leaps in with reckless abandon, the water as home to him as much as anything else could be. He thinks he will call off the search for a Pangean dragon and make his way to the common lands that he’s heard so much about but hasn’t yet explored. He gorges himself on water that tastes almost like copper as it slides down his throat. He pays the taste no mind; surely the water is not the only difference he will experience in a life that stretches wide open ahead of him. He’s smiling easily at that thought when he realizes he’s not alone.
“Hello,” the boy calls back, hearing the stranger’s splashing approach from down the current. He moves to intercept her, not wanting her to put in all the work even if he can hardly move with all the water sloshing in his belly. “Not your father.” A crooked grin finds his lips as he states the obvious. “I’m Volos.” It should be impossible to see her in the eternal night, but her porcelain coat makes her just the tiniest bit more visible. “Is your dad a dragon, by chance?”
v o l o s
@[amathea]