06-25-2016, 03:50 PM
He arrives, quiet and calculating, as he always is. Her weary doe eyes raise to meet his of bright hazel, and she can see the depth of disappointment looming within them. She has failed him, she knows. He is nothing of what the others have produced, and yet, the longing that aches with her heart is not for his approval. "It is; his name is Arestor." She murmurs quietly, unwilling to give him any more than that. She breaks away from his gaze, unable to stare into his demeaning eyes any longer, and instead she watches the curious boy who clearly has no care at all for the magnificent beast that has come across their path.
Rather, he presses past Kirin - stark plum against a soft lavender, unphased and wholly unimpressed with his father's massive wings that lay tucked against his sides, though they glimmer in the soft sunlight of morning. He presses his delicate hooves into the soft mounds of sand, idly preoccupied with all that is around him.
His glowing eyes of green and brown, which mimic that of his indifferent father's, peer around curiously, and finally, Misra presses past Kirin as well. She flinches when she nears his touch, when she feels his warmth linger too close to her - he has hurt her, she is certain, for the last and final time. She has seen little of him since their courting, and now he has come simply to see what she has created.
Nothing more, nothing less.
She will not allow him to take this moment from her.
Adoringly, she watches as he nears the coastline, following him but too far behind - the thick scent of salty seawater lures him in, as do the various sandpipers that flit and flee along the ocean coast, seeking fragile shells for their next ravenous meal. She croons to him, begging him not to move too close to the shore, but it is too late. He is captivated by the fluttering birds and their fleeting motions, and as the young boy's eyes meet his mother's, he is altogether startled by an unusual tide - and with a frightened bleat, he collapses into the grimy grasp of the icy seawater, caught into its clutches as he is pulled out to sea.
She frantically moves closer to the shore, spreading her magnificent wings of fading obsidian as she rises above, crying out for him, searching fruitlessly for him - yet the fragile, wholly too curious boy of amethyst is gone, long gone, buried beneath the sand and sea. She weeps for him, tucking her thick wings to the side as she paces along the dark stones that emerge from the ocean water, slender legs carrying her from one side to another. She feels foolish, helpless - she had seen the sea attempt to carry out another child before in her own youth; how could she have let him wander so far from her?
Yet just in the depth of her despair, far beyond any timeline a child should exist upon (minutes had passed - many agonizing, slow minutes - he should have perished, he should have drowned, this she knows), he emerges - slick with icy seawater; a string of kelp clinging to his hide. He bleats for her as he struggles against the tide, and she bounds into the icy waters herself, drawing him forward with an outstretched wing.
There, her miracle boy of amethyst is matted with water and sand, tucked safely away from the ocean and tightly against the warmth of her body and the cradling love of her wing. She breathes in his scent and weeps against his pelt, and in this moment, she realizes that her precious boy is not so unremarkable after all.
Rather, he presses past Kirin - stark plum against a soft lavender, unphased and wholly unimpressed with his father's massive wings that lay tucked against his sides, though they glimmer in the soft sunlight of morning. He presses his delicate hooves into the soft mounds of sand, idly preoccupied with all that is around him.
His glowing eyes of green and brown, which mimic that of his indifferent father's, peer around curiously, and finally, Misra presses past Kirin as well. She flinches when she nears his touch, when she feels his warmth linger too close to her - he has hurt her, she is certain, for the last and final time. She has seen little of him since their courting, and now he has come simply to see what she has created.
Nothing more, nothing less.
She will not allow him to take this moment from her.
Adoringly, she watches as he nears the coastline, following him but too far behind - the thick scent of salty seawater lures him in, as do the various sandpipers that flit and flee along the ocean coast, seeking fragile shells for their next ravenous meal. She croons to him, begging him not to move too close to the shore, but it is too late. He is captivated by the fluttering birds and their fleeting motions, and as the young boy's eyes meet his mother's, he is altogether startled by an unusual tide - and with a frightened bleat, he collapses into the grimy grasp of the icy seawater, caught into its clutches as he is pulled out to sea.
She frantically moves closer to the shore, spreading her magnificent wings of fading obsidian as she rises above, crying out for him, searching fruitlessly for him - yet the fragile, wholly too curious boy of amethyst is gone, long gone, buried beneath the sand and sea. She weeps for him, tucking her thick wings to the side as she paces along the dark stones that emerge from the ocean water, slender legs carrying her from one side to another. She feels foolish, helpless - she had seen the sea attempt to carry out another child before in her own youth; how could she have let him wander so far from her?
Yet just in the depth of her despair, far beyond any timeline a child should exist upon (minutes had passed - many agonizing, slow minutes - he should have perished, he should have drowned, this she knows), he emerges - slick with icy seawater; a string of kelp clinging to his hide. He bleats for her as he struggles against the tide, and she bounds into the icy waters herself, drawing him forward with an outstretched wing.
There, her miracle boy of amethyst is matted with water and sand, tucked safely away from the ocean and tightly against the warmth of her body and the cradling love of her wing. She breathes in his scent and weeps against his pelt, and in this moment, she realizes that her precious boy is not so unremarkable after all.
