[private] i am not the only traveler; catryn

[Targaryen]

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It has taken years, but Targaryen has finally learned to be himself. This is not the rite of passage every young adult experiences; it is not the daily struggle of learning who you are or what your purpose is in life. The tobiano has spent his years of young adulthood learning how to master his own magic. It had been painful and exhausting at first. Many days were swept away by the decisions of whatever creature claimed his body, while nighttime brought little sleep as he attempted to remember. Slowly, throughout the years, he gained control over his own body once more.

When he is finally able to make sense of day and night, of seasons, of more than just what animal his body has become, his heart aches for what he knows he’s lost. How long ago has it been since he’d left Loess, traveling to the common lands to find a friend for Taiga? How many years have passed since he’d announced his feelings for Cheri? The world has shifted around him; Beqanna is restless again and changing her face for her residents to adapt to. Nothing is the same, and he grieves.

Despite his practice and years of learning, Targaryen is nervous to purposely shift forms. He flies with his own multicolored wings to the Meadow. The deep chestnut of his coloring is striking against a bright blue autumn sky. When he lands, his chest tightens as he realizes his eyes are looking for someone — anyone — he knows. Yet all he sees are strangers.

credit to fangs of bearbones.

@Catryn