He feels made new again by the sudden familiar regularity of day and night. Or maybe it is from the changes within himself, the feathers that burst painlessly through his skin and the wings that erupted slightly less gently from the bone and muscle of his golden shoulders. He’d always guessed at what it would be like to fly, at what it might feel like to have only the sky and wide open blue to sail through, to have nothing to hold him back. But he had never truly understood what he was missing until now.
It is a freedom that had been robbed from him by the dark and restored tenfold, a weightlessness unlike one he had ever known. He has a new understanding for the everchanging shades of blue that drape themselves around the clouds, he knows what it feels like to fly through one too - cool and damp, like fog and yet somehow more.
Or maybe he is just more, in his quiet jubilation.
But even he can not fly forever and his wings are still young, still new, the muscles not yet hard and corded with the years of use they would have if he’d been born with them. So he lands when they ache, but he is careful to pick a new place every time. There is so much more to see and know now, places he would not have found from any place but the clouds.
He is headed for a rock outcropping now, a formation of cliffs in the land that walls off a small meadow with an even smaller clear pond inside it. But there is a swirl of color somewhere beside all of it in his periphery, something teal and pale and shining like a jewel. She would be striking enough like that, but the aura surrounding her is what really captures his attention. There are swirls of blue and pink that make a smile pull at the corners of his mouth, paler swirls of an almost golden shade of yellow that makes the smile fade again.
It is no decision at all to redirect his flight and land quietly nearby, though she will have certainly heard the rustle of feathers in his large wings. He keeps his face soft when he turns to join her, moving to the edge of her little pool. Up this close she is like some kind of ocean treasure, and he can see in her skin every shade of ocean-teal and the almost opalescence of the paler shell-marked places. Her face is quiet, her eyes wider in a way that leads him to believe she is unsure, though perhaps it is just the delicate plains and hollows that make them seem so large. But she is undeniably beautiful, like an ocean siren, and the desire to be near to her wells inside his chest until it builds into something he reflects back to her unknowingly. A desire that binds them silently together.
“You’re worried about something.” He notes, examining the hints of yellow swirling in her aura again, and though the question itself is prying there is a gentle kind of genuine concern that warms in the brown of his searching eyes. His wings fold in against his back, the feathers whispering as he moves close enough to the water to let it lap at his hooves but no further. “Is there something I can help you with?” This close, with her delicate curves and a thousand shades of swirling teal, with those solemn seafoam eyes and the way sunshine spills over the hollows of her face and her hips, he is entirely unimmune to the magic of her.
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@[Persea]