Out with the golden we sew, and the lower past that crawls.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
I watch kindly as the mare takes in my slightly misaligned wings, appreciating her attention to detail and the way her intelligent eyes gleam in the afternoon sun. Already my heart yearns to take her and to show her my home, but I caution that meaningless organ and take a breath. There is no rush. We have time, infinite.
My reserved smile widens at the sight of hers, and at the sound of her voice, my small ears perk to listen. Ilma. It is a pretty name, two syllables, a sort of warm roll of the tongue that I fancy I shall enjoy. The white one gestures to the field, indicating that her sense of foreignness extends to all of Beqanna. Having been born here, it is not a feeling I can relate to exactly; but I was born before the Change, and in a way, that made every soul inhabiting Beqanna a foreigner for some time. But I'm sure still that the feelings are different.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Ilma," I reply, lowering my head respectfully. "There are many herds to choose from here - Beqanna, that is. And we usually refer to them as kingdoms, but they are of the same essence." My wings shuffle and reorganize, having slipped from where they ought to be held. I smile sheepishly before remembering that this mare has no reason to think that the wings do not belong to me, and I cough lightly to cover the expression. Socializing is tricky!
"Were you born with those wings?" I ask, genuinely curious. "They are very beautiful." I glance over my shoulder, towards him, some adrenaline coursing through my veins as an impulsive thoughts comes to me. I whip my head around again, a slightly disheveled smile on my lips. "Hyaline is not far from here! We could fly over it and I'll show you the sights," I cough again, sheepish again, fool, fool, fool. "Or I could tell you more about it first, I'm getting ahead of myself."
My reserved smile widens at the sight of hers, and at the sound of her voice, my small ears perk to listen. Ilma. It is a pretty name, two syllables, a sort of warm roll of the tongue that I fancy I shall enjoy. The white one gestures to the field, indicating that her sense of foreignness extends to all of Beqanna. Having been born here, it is not a feeling I can relate to exactly; but I was born before the Change, and in a way, that made every soul inhabiting Beqanna a foreigner for some time. But I'm sure still that the feelings are different.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Ilma," I reply, lowering my head respectfully. "There are many herds to choose from here - Beqanna, that is. And we usually refer to them as kingdoms, but they are of the same essence." My wings shuffle and reorganize, having slipped from where they ought to be held. I smile sheepishly before remembering that this mare has no reason to think that the wings do not belong to me, and I cough lightly to cover the expression. Socializing is tricky!
"Were you born with those wings?" I ask, genuinely curious. "They are very beautiful." I glance over my shoulder, towards him, some adrenaline coursing through my veins as an impulsive thoughts comes to me. I whip my head around again, a slightly disheveled smile on my lips. "Hyaline is not far from here! We could fly over it and I'll show you the sights," I cough again, sheepish again, fool, fool, fool. "Or I could tell you more about it first, I'm getting ahead of myself."
Kagerus
sweet nothing
@[Ilma] whatever is fine!! <3
![[Image: kag]](https://78.media.tumblr.com/2e8039018ce4dff6112c167ec23e886a/tumblr_p72zjit7wC1s5a0qvo1_100.png)
dreamweaver