04-14-2018, 12:27 PM
the secret of our world is written in the stars
He awakes with the sun.
He had dreamt of the moon and the stars, which had shifted and moved from their normal positions across a black expanse of endless night. The movement was radiant and beautiful, majestic in the way that the galaxies twisted and turned - from purples to pinks to the lightest of silvers. He had watched hungrily, a tiny and insignificant figure beneath the yawning and neverending universe. But now golden light draws him seamlessly fromhis sleep, its warm and radiant tendrils filtering through the gentle sway of the branches cascading from his willow tree, slowly ushering him from his unconsciousness. Bleary-eyed but well-rested, the sun-and-cloud stallion tosses his head, the ivory and bright blue of his mane and forelock falling across his face.
By the time he has moved from his willow and into the early morning sun, dawn had revealed the morning glories and wisteria, showering the valley with the warmth of summer’s plenty. The eastern wind brings the scent of fresh meadow grass and a shiver of coolness from the mountains, but also something new and also familiar. There is a call that the wind brings to him, and though perhaps not meant for him to investigate, he does so anyway.
It does not take him long to find them, a trio on the borders between Hyaline and the river. Only one is familiar, and immediately his heart pricks with adoration as he recognizes the bright and beautiful wings and the deep gold of Solace. There is a young filly - with disheveled wings and a tiny, cheery voice - as well as another. The stallion finds his place beside Solace, a low and warm nicker of greeting offered to his twin. He flicks an ear towards the ebony child, lowering his head to glance at her from behind Solace, snorting softly at her eagerness and chuckling warmly.
A small smile - cunning and knowing - finds his champagne-gold lips as the brightness of his blue eyes fixates on the deep honey and white of the woman who has ventured beyond the River and mountain to find them. With immediate recognition, he murmurs gently: “Little lamb,” his voice serious and tender. He remembers her from their early morning in the wildflowers of the meadow and notices that there is a difference in her that had not been there before. There is sadness in her eyes, despite the courage that shines there too.
He had not been close enough to hear Solace offer to escort her to the lake, but he knows his sister well and assumes that the offer has already been given. He waits patiently - which is strangely so for him - with a gentle gleam in his bright eyes as he fills himself up with whatever grief that has stricken her, his face soft.
He had dreamt of the moon and the stars, which had shifted and moved from their normal positions across a black expanse of endless night. The movement was radiant and beautiful, majestic in the way that the galaxies twisted and turned - from purples to pinks to the lightest of silvers. He had watched hungrily, a tiny and insignificant figure beneath the yawning and neverending universe. But now golden light draws him seamlessly fromhis sleep, its warm and radiant tendrils filtering through the gentle sway of the branches cascading from his willow tree, slowly ushering him from his unconsciousness. Bleary-eyed but well-rested, the sun-and-cloud stallion tosses his head, the ivory and bright blue of his mane and forelock falling across his face.
By the time he has moved from his willow and into the early morning sun, dawn had revealed the morning glories and wisteria, showering the valley with the warmth of summer’s plenty. The eastern wind brings the scent of fresh meadow grass and a shiver of coolness from the mountains, but also something new and also familiar. There is a call that the wind brings to him, and though perhaps not meant for him to investigate, he does so anyway.
It does not take him long to find them, a trio on the borders between Hyaline and the river. Only one is familiar, and immediately his heart pricks with adoration as he recognizes the bright and beautiful wings and the deep gold of Solace. There is a young filly - with disheveled wings and a tiny, cheery voice - as well as another. The stallion finds his place beside Solace, a low and warm nicker of greeting offered to his twin. He flicks an ear towards the ebony child, lowering his head to glance at her from behind Solace, snorting softly at her eagerness and chuckling warmly.
A small smile - cunning and knowing - finds his champagne-gold lips as the brightness of his blue eyes fixates on the deep honey and white of the woman who has ventured beyond the River and mountain to find them. With immediate recognition, he murmurs gently: “Little lamb,” his voice serious and tender. He remembers her from their early morning in the wildflowers of the meadow and notices that there is a difference in her that had not been there before. There is sadness in her eyes, despite the courage that shines there too.
He had not been close enough to hear Solace offer to escort her to the lake, but he knows his sister well and assumes that the offer has already been given. He waits patiently - which is strangely so for him - with a gentle gleam in his bright eyes as he fills himself up with whatever grief that has stricken her, his face soft.
(be my escape)
Svedka