06-12-2017, 10:13 AM
Beneath a large maple bound and draped with the purple tendrils of wisteria, Sakir, sentinel-like as always, took in what he could of the land. His weary eyes sweeping the darkening surface of the lake, and then up and up to scour the craggily ridge which was bathed almost gold as the skies above grew darker, the light pulled from the world. All seemed as it should… And yet… Sakir blinked.
She appeared from nowhere, simply there, where for a moment which surely spanned no more than a breath he was certain there had been nothing. She glowed much like the moon would soon, somewhere far above, elegantly refined as she remained watching and waiting at what his siblings had deemed the edge of their kingdom. But more importantly, she was no one he recognised. A strange face who merited a welcome which should be warm rather than brash. And so Sakir did not hesitate.
He lunged forward and took the most direct albeit difficult route up toward the stranger. Springing up the mountainous scrubland with a nimble precision enhanced no doubt by his youth. Up and up he went, closer and closer. There was an urgency in each bound, the wind twisting the strands of his growing dark mane, the cooler dusk air filling his lungs. Wildly he searched for that tell-tale metallic gleam of his sister, of which as of yet he had not sighted, though Iset knew Hyaline far deeper than he, and his dear twin was as crafty as she was aggressively bold. Higher he scrambled, he would get there first least Amet have another guest to pacify.
With a final surge, he clambered up upon a largish boulder and crested the ridgetop. And it was with triumphant eyes that Sakir met with those unexpected violet eyes of the stranger. “Hello,” he greeted, still breathless as he came close. She was both beautiful and odd, like the goddess who’d found him in the forest that night, pale and radiant. He cocked his head curiously at her, Iset momentarily forgotten, his once tired eyes no longer half closed and weary. “Welcome to Hyaline, the sanctuary” he said, partially awestruck and feeling as young as his age to be greeting such a wondrous guest by himself as he eyed the strange but pretty trinkets which strangled her hooves.
She appeared from nowhere, simply there, where for a moment which surely spanned no more than a breath he was certain there had been nothing. She glowed much like the moon would soon, somewhere far above, elegantly refined as she remained watching and waiting at what his siblings had deemed the edge of their kingdom. But more importantly, she was no one he recognised. A strange face who merited a welcome which should be warm rather than brash. And so Sakir did not hesitate.
He lunged forward and took the most direct albeit difficult route up toward the stranger. Springing up the mountainous scrubland with a nimble precision enhanced no doubt by his youth. Up and up he went, closer and closer. There was an urgency in each bound, the wind twisting the strands of his growing dark mane, the cooler dusk air filling his lungs. Wildly he searched for that tell-tale metallic gleam of his sister, of which as of yet he had not sighted, though Iset knew Hyaline far deeper than he, and his dear twin was as crafty as she was aggressively bold. Higher he scrambled, he would get there first least Amet have another guest to pacify.
With a final surge, he clambered up upon a largish boulder and crested the ridgetop. And it was with triumphant eyes that Sakir met with those unexpected violet eyes of the stranger. “Hello,” he greeted, still breathless as he came close. She was both beautiful and odd, like the goddess who’d found him in the forest that night, pale and radiant. He cocked his head curiously at her, Iset momentarily forgotten, his once tired eyes no longer half closed and weary. “Welcome to Hyaline, the sanctuary” he said, partially awestruck and feeling as young as his age to be greeting such a wondrous guest by himself as he eyed the strange but pretty trinkets which strangled her hooves.