01-11-2019, 08:22 PM
Volcano.
She turns the idea of it over in her head, staring at the smoking mountain for a long moment. The smoking top is faintly menacing, like at any moment it could spew nightmares across the land. Elkhazel doesn’t like the idea of that, so she changes the vision – in her mind, the ash turns into butterflies, who float across the field.
Pyxis agrees that it’s funny, but she doesn’t laugh. Blue eyes meet blue, and Pyxis’ eyes are the same shade as the butterflies from her earlier visualization. For a moment she can almost see those butterflies landing on the other mare’s antlers, wings fluttering gently in the breeze. They gaze at each other in silence. Perhaps another child would break that silence, but Elkhazel certainly is not that.
Mother? She’s mother. The filly frowns, thinking hard about the question Pyxis has asked her. It takes her a moment, and some restless shifting; her wings change, too. Some of mother’s favorites appear, as she thinks hard about ‘who, exactly’ Mother is. Suddenly she smiles, and lifts her wings briefly (copper, and momentarily draconic) in excitement. “Her name is Oksana,” she announces, quite sure this is the correct answer.
Of course, at that point, maybe Pyxis doesn’t need it. Maybe the wings were enough. “I’m sure she’s coming back,” the girl tells the mare with quiet confidence. “But I think she wanted me to find you, for now.”
She turns the idea of it over in her head, staring at the smoking mountain for a long moment. The smoking top is faintly menacing, like at any moment it could spew nightmares across the land. Elkhazel doesn’t like the idea of that, so she changes the vision – in her mind, the ash turns into butterflies, who float across the field.
Pyxis agrees that it’s funny, but she doesn’t laugh. Blue eyes meet blue, and Pyxis’ eyes are the same shade as the butterflies from her earlier visualization. For a moment she can almost see those butterflies landing on the other mare’s antlers, wings fluttering gently in the breeze. They gaze at each other in silence. Perhaps another child would break that silence, but Elkhazel certainly is not that.
Mother? She’s mother. The filly frowns, thinking hard about the question Pyxis has asked her. It takes her a moment, and some restless shifting; her wings change, too. Some of mother’s favorites appear, as she thinks hard about ‘who, exactly’ Mother is. Suddenly she smiles, and lifts her wings briefly (copper, and momentarily draconic) in excitement. “Her name is Oksana,” she announces, quite sure this is the correct answer.
Of course, at that point, maybe Pyxis doesn’t need it. Maybe the wings were enough. “I’m sure she’s coming back,” the girl tells the mare with quiet confidence. “But I think she wanted me to find you, for now.”
elkhazel
la la la, some text here
@[Pyxis]