Solace sets out as the dawn breaks, taking to the sky and putting the rising sun at her back. She spares only a glance for the silver waters of the cove, rising in the morning breeze easily with the powerful movement of her wings. Briefly, she stops in Hyaline as she passes low between the familiar peaks, greeting Amet fondly below his wisteria tree and telling him of her plan.
But the eastern caretaker does not linger; duty calls her westward.
The roar of the wind is all she can think of once she is underway again - the way it leaves her breathless as she gains even more speed, crashing against her face and drowning out all other sounds. Solace drinks in the sky, letting her glacial eyes close. She plummets, wings held tight against her topline and frost in the waves of her spiraling wake.
With a snap, Solace's cerulean wings unfurl again, nearly wrenching the delicate, light bones from her shoulders. She realizes that while indulging in the pleasures of the sky, she has nearly reached her destination.
Still a fair distances from the hills, the tri-colored queen glides far less dramatically for the remainder of her descent - giving her heart a moment to settle, pale lips parted as she gasps for heady drafts of fragrant Loessian air.
A feather falls as she lands, framed by the mountains of Hyaline and the lazily rising sun. The brilliant hills call up memories for what seemed like another lifetime, as she calls out for king she knows only by name. Her ebony mane lies uncharacteristically tangled against her pale throat as the frost supernaturally reforms along each tendril - the only thing distinguishing her from the girl who came her half a decade ago in search of a dragon.
we are the ever-living ghost of what once was
@[Castile]
