09-29-2018, 11:52 AM
there was a heaven in youbut god, there’s a devil in me
The trip to Hyaline would be hard, even with his grand-daughter’s beautiful and powerful ability; but it is what he had expected and what he would gladly endure to be sure that he would see his daughters, son, and grandchildren before anything might happen.
“Might? You’re an old man and a fool.”
Warrick’s teeth grind back the bitter voice, though his physical expression is easily mistaken for the pain that resounds in his chest with every inhale and exhale. Warlight’s voice interrupts the inner dialogue, his bright eyes turning towards the antlered girl with a soft and gentle expression as he feels the warmth of her muzzle against the curve of his auburn cheek. ‘We can go as soon as you are ready.’ He offers her a smile, warm and admirable, before giving her a gentle nod. Warrick’s eyes turn back towards Tephra, towards his friends, towards what he is leaving behind, and in a few moments, feels himself being whisked away into a dream world.
Besides his granddaughter they seamlessly travel in another realm - things buzz by him at a speed where he cannot place the names of them, but lights and colors dazzle him as they move through a different time and place. In a breath he finds himself once again standing on solid ground, the scent of clear wind rushing around them in what seems to be a welcoming embrace. The once-king exhales in a shuddering sigh, blinking back the shock of dream traveling as well as seeing the familiar expanse of Hyaline opening up before him. Memories rush back at the sight of the lake in the distance, as well as the many cherry blossoms and blooming wisteria that has sprouted in spring’s sun and warmth, and the willows that weep across the water’s edge and sway gently in the breeze.
There is no smoke or ash that clouds the air, no humidity to clog his already weakened lungs. He inhales deeply, thinking quietly to himself that perhaps Hyaline would not be a terrible place to die.
His brow furrows momentarily at the thought, wondering how it had come to pass in his mind and feeling as though the words themselves weren’t his own. But they were.
Tossing his head, the winged stallion shuffles the great cobalt of his folded wings gently, turning to look at Warlight with a soft yet weary expression. “You have a wonderful gift,” he muses, pressing his forehead to her cheek, “thank you, Warlight.”
“Might? You’re an old man and a fool.”
Warrick’s teeth grind back the bitter voice, though his physical expression is easily mistaken for the pain that resounds in his chest with every inhale and exhale. Warlight’s voice interrupts the inner dialogue, his bright eyes turning towards the antlered girl with a soft and gentle expression as he feels the warmth of her muzzle against the curve of his auburn cheek. ‘We can go as soon as you are ready.’ He offers her a smile, warm and admirable, before giving her a gentle nod. Warrick’s eyes turn back towards Tephra, towards his friends, towards what he is leaving behind, and in a few moments, feels himself being whisked away into a dream world.
Besides his granddaughter they seamlessly travel in another realm - things buzz by him at a speed where he cannot place the names of them, but lights and colors dazzle him as they move through a different time and place. In a breath he finds himself once again standing on solid ground, the scent of clear wind rushing around them in what seems to be a welcoming embrace. The once-king exhales in a shuddering sigh, blinking back the shock of dream traveling as well as seeing the familiar expanse of Hyaline opening up before him. Memories rush back at the sight of the lake in the distance, as well as the many cherry blossoms and blooming wisteria that has sprouted in spring’s sun and warmth, and the willows that weep across the water’s edge and sway gently in the breeze.
There is no smoke or ash that clouds the air, no humidity to clog his already weakened lungs. He inhales deeply, thinking quietly to himself that perhaps Hyaline would not be a terrible place to die.
His brow furrows momentarily at the thought, wondering how it had come to pass in his mind and feeling as though the words themselves weren’t his own. But they were.
Tossing his head, the winged stallion shuffles the great cobalt of his folded wings gently, turning to look at Warlight with a soft yet weary expression. “You have a wonderful gift,” he muses, pressing his forehead to her cheek, “thank you, Warlight.”
WARRICK