03-20-2018, 07:13 PM
Hephaestus
Up on the mountain top the world felt so small. Giant trees below were no longer than the wisps of his forelock as they blew in the wind. The beautiful mountain ranges of Hyaline was the farthest west he dared to travel in Beqanna. Having heard tales along the road of Nerine and the growing force there, he thought it best to double back east. However, tempting the soft sands of the shoreline were, he would sooner return to Ischia.
Standing on the edge of a plateau, he gazed down at the whitecapped river below. Snow melt had thickened the gurgling water, making even the consideration of crossing impossible. Large as he was, he knew even he could not brave the rapids. Stoic upon his perch, it was easy for him to forget the truth of his identity. He let the breeze toss his mane freely, not worrying for once that he might be standing exposed. The feeling was surprisingly freeing.
The rocky alcoves and steep cliffsides reminded him of the place of his birth. It was familiar to climb the multitude of trails that wove throughout the land. Some things were hard to forget. Far in the distance he heard the soft chatter of the herd that resided within those mountains. It was odd, the feeling that washed over him. For the first time in a long time he’d found himself tempted by their existence. They felt like home, though he wasn’t entirely sure why that fact was tempting to him. He doubted that their prejudices would be any different than that of the lands he’d visited before. Though they would say otherwise, their eyes would hide their disgust at his deformity. He wasn’t sure if he was prepared to face that reality again.
Sighing into the wind he closed his eyes and leaned into it’s welcoming whisper. Warm fingers of spring rode upon it’s current, whispering the beginnings of new life throughout the land. It was beautiful. A truer companion than any other he’d have in his life, the wind beckoned him towards a new beginning. As he had a thousand times, he knew he would follow it’s call.
Standing on the edge of a plateau, he gazed down at the whitecapped river below. Snow melt had thickened the gurgling water, making even the consideration of crossing impossible. Large as he was, he knew even he could not brave the rapids. Stoic upon his perch, it was easy for him to forget the truth of his identity. He let the breeze toss his mane freely, not worrying for once that he might be standing exposed. The feeling was surprisingly freeing.
The rocky alcoves and steep cliffsides reminded him of the place of his birth. It was familiar to climb the multitude of trails that wove throughout the land. Some things were hard to forget. Far in the distance he heard the soft chatter of the herd that resided within those mountains. It was odd, the feeling that washed over him. For the first time in a long time he’d found himself tempted by their existence. They felt like home, though he wasn’t entirely sure why that fact was tempting to him. He doubted that their prejudices would be any different than that of the lands he’d visited before. Though they would say otherwise, their eyes would hide their disgust at his deformity. He wasn’t sure if he was prepared to face that reality again.
Sighing into the wind he closed his eyes and leaned into it’s welcoming whisper. Warm fingers of spring rode upon it’s current, whispering the beginnings of new life throughout the land. It was beautiful. A truer companion than any other he’d have in his life, the wind beckoned him towards a new beginning. As he had a thousand times, he knew he would follow it’s call.
Break My Shackles To Set Me Free
@[Solace]