Sol
04-17-2026, 08:10 AM
What am I supposed to do when I want to talk about peace and understanding
But you only understand the language of war?
But you only understand the language of war?
Sol trembled, locked in place by a guilt that never would have plagued her mother. She finally took a step back, cringing as she both felt the cracking and heard the crunching of one of their little bird skulls beneath her hoof.
“Don’t be upset.”
The filly’s ears swivel, her head jerking upward and turning towards the source of the voice. “Mama?” She whispered, squinting her gold-and-red eyes against the contrast of the dark shadows of the old pine forest and the bright midday sun.
Of course, it was not her mother who emerged.
Sunlight seemed to run across the mare’s blackened hide like liquid gold. It looked otherworldly against what Sol could only describe as her starlight-white mane and tail. She was too light to be Nocturnal, too pretty. But there was something about her that felt familiar enough that Sol never considered running away from her. If anything, she felt a pull—almost like she had found home.
“I don’t know what I did that made them so angry,” she frowned, suddenly hit with a pang of embarrassment and half-hoping the stranger hadn’t heard her when she mistook her for her mother. It was short-lived, however.
It wasn’t everyday she got to see someone turn into a dragon, after all. The scales rippled; she cocked her head to the side, taking in the horns and the spikes so effortlessly growing up through the mare’s hide.
Could she do that?
Sol watched, intrigued by the shift from mare to monster rather than frightened. The heat billowed across her skin while the dead blackbirds around her burned; a thin layer of sweat began to pebble up on her flesh, but still, she didn’t move as her little enemies were turned to ash.
“There, all better.”
“Th—” Sol coughed, half from the smoke, half because she recalled being told not to mumble when addressing her elders. “Thank you.
”
Pausing, she considered her next words carefully. Unsure how to ask. “Um,” her eyes darted around, as if trying to find something interesting to stare at, but her gaze returned back to the half-dragon, half-horse face. “Are you my family?”
No Crosses Count x Nocturnal
“Don’t be upset.”
The filly’s ears swivel, her head jerking upward and turning towards the source of the voice. “Mama?” She whispered, squinting her gold-and-red eyes against the contrast of the dark shadows of the old pine forest and the bright midday sun.
Of course, it was not her mother who emerged.
Sunlight seemed to run across the mare’s blackened hide like liquid gold. It looked otherworldly against what Sol could only describe as her starlight-white mane and tail. She was too light to be Nocturnal, too pretty. But there was something about her that felt familiar enough that Sol never considered running away from her. If anything, she felt a pull—almost like she had found home.
“I don’t know what I did that made them so angry,” she frowned, suddenly hit with a pang of embarrassment and half-hoping the stranger hadn’t heard her when she mistook her for her mother. It was short-lived, however.
It wasn’t everyday she got to see someone turn into a dragon, after all. The scales rippled; she cocked her head to the side, taking in the horns and the spikes so effortlessly growing up through the mare’s hide.
Could she do that?
Sol watched, intrigued by the shift from mare to monster rather than frightened. The heat billowed across her skin while the dead blackbirds around her burned; a thin layer of sweat began to pebble up on her flesh, but still, she didn’t move as her little enemies were turned to ash.
“There, all better.”
“Th—” Sol coughed, half from the smoke, half because she recalled being told not to mumble when addressing her elders. “Thank you.
”
Pausing, she considered her next words carefully. Unsure how to ask. “Um,” her eyes darted around, as if trying to find something interesting to stare at, but her gaze returned back to the half-dragon, half-horse face. “Are you my family?”
sol