Takei
As quickly as it had gone, it came back (his eyesight). One morning he woke up to find the world drenched in color and shape, so different from the year he spent in the shapeless, dark void. And when Takei had glanced at his reflection, the onyx horns had glanced back. They were short at the time, but every week they gain length and their ends become more pointed, more dangerous. He truly doesn’t mind that factor.
But he’s been planning to leave Hyaline for quite some time, though he hasn’t taken action just yet. The mountainous kingdom has been generous to him in his time of darkness — and he will be forever grateful for Keeper’s initial invitation into her home — but the quiet, lakeside life doesn’t suit him. It could be something he could grow into, but for now it rubs at some unfitting pieces of him like an ill-fitting shoe that needs to be stretched some.
He’s walking out toward the borders when he hears his name called with a thin voice. The gold and ivory colt standing nearby doesn’t have the same blood and bone color that father and firstborn both carry, but Takei doesn’t have any trouble identifying his younger brother. For a moment, he is confused. He can’t remember the last time he saw Noori, let alone his parents together.
He steps toward the boy on hesitant legs. “I’m Takei,” he says when he reaches a close enough distance to talk. Takei had imagined himself to have his own children before he ever saw another sibling of his (especially not a full-blooded sibling; but he can tell the boy is his full brother in the formation of his wings and the pattern on his body and the slope of his face). “You’re my brother, aren’t you? What’s your name?”
But he’s been planning to leave Hyaline for quite some time, though he hasn’t taken action just yet. The mountainous kingdom has been generous to him in his time of darkness — and he will be forever grateful for Keeper’s initial invitation into her home — but the quiet, lakeside life doesn’t suit him. It could be something he could grow into, but for now it rubs at some unfitting pieces of him like an ill-fitting shoe that needs to be stretched some.
He’s walking out toward the borders when he hears his name called with a thin voice. The gold and ivory colt standing nearby doesn’t have the same blood and bone color that father and firstborn both carry, but Takei doesn’t have any trouble identifying his younger brother. For a moment, he is confused. He can’t remember the last time he saw Noori, let alone his parents together.
He steps toward the boy on hesitant legs. “I’m Takei,” he says when he reaches a close enough distance to talk. Takei had imagined himself to have his own children before he ever saw another sibling of his (especially not a full-blooded sibling; but he can tell the boy is his full brother in the formation of his wings and the pattern on his body and the slope of his face). “You’re my brother, aren’t you? What’s your name?”
watch the mind run far away, way ahead of us