03-19-2024, 06:30 AM
Ruhr’s watchful eyes do not leave the prone figure. He’s not entirely sure what he is watching for, but the relief at seeing her finally move is short-lived. As a creature of the sky, he recognizes the flaring wings as the warning they are, and takes a step back. He does his best to hide the limp as he does, and though he doesn’t spread his own wings in a response, there is no controlling the rise of his expressive feathers.
He’ll give her space, those feathers say, but he is not afraid.
There is little that he fears, but Ruhr remembers the darkness of the divining pool the night before, and chooses caution.
‘Am I dreaming?’ he hears her ask, and it is not the first time that Ruhr’s arrival has elicited such a response. Those without sky eyes lack trust in their own vision, Ruhr had long since realized. (That his kind might be a bit odd-looking, even in this magical place, had never occurred to him.)
“No.” He answers, having glanced up at the moon once more to be sure himself.
‘Look’, she says, and his ears prick forward, his feathered brows raising in interest. They soon furrow as she continues, ‘If you’re going to take me away, please get on with it.’
Take her away? Him?
“Are you from the Moon?” He asks, the only reasonable response to such a statement. Had the darkness last night been a sign, he wonders? Had the pool been empty because the Moon intended to send him a different blessing? It feels fitting, that she would grant him a gift, and yet…
What is he to do with a mare?
He will ask again, whenever he finds a still enough pool. That will not be until dark, he knows, where the half-moon now hangs in the sky will give him nothing. For now though, he will accept what he is now certain is a gift.
“I will keep you safe,” he tells her, in a manner that he intends to be reassuring, “If that is what She wills. ”
@Plenilune
He’ll give her space, those feathers say, but he is not afraid.
There is little that he fears, but Ruhr remembers the darkness of the divining pool the night before, and chooses caution.
‘Am I dreaming?’ he hears her ask, and it is not the first time that Ruhr’s arrival has elicited such a response. Those without sky eyes lack trust in their own vision, Ruhr had long since realized. (That his kind might be a bit odd-looking, even in this magical place, had never occurred to him.)
“No.” He answers, having glanced up at the moon once more to be sure himself.
‘Look’, she says, and his ears prick forward, his feathered brows raising in interest. They soon furrow as she continues, ‘If you’re going to take me away, please get on with it.’
Take her away? Him?
“Are you from the Moon?” He asks, the only reasonable response to such a statement. Had the darkness last night been a sign, he wonders? Had the pool been empty because the Moon intended to send him a different blessing? It feels fitting, that she would grant him a gift, and yet…
What is he to do with a mare?
He will ask again, whenever he finds a still enough pool. That will not be until dark, he knows, where the half-moon now hangs in the sky will give him nothing. For now though, he will accept what he is now certain is a gift.
“I will keep you safe,” he tells her, in a manner that he intends to be reassuring, “If that is what She wills. ”
@Plenilune