08-22-2019, 06:56 AM
Pteron wakes – but he really doesn’t.
His eyes are open, but the edges of the world are soft and foggy. There is no fog in Loess, not with their hot sun, and when he tries to turn and look at the fog it is never there. The stallion frowns, turning on the ledge where he’d been resting, but the movement of his body feels unfamiliar as well. This feels like dreaming, he thinks, but why would he be dreaming of a disembodied voice?
He turns back and there is someone in front of him, and he finds that the disembodied voice is not disembodied after all.
Pteron startles, his wings half flaring as he jolts back against the stone, the sound of his hooves just a little off. His blue and white face creases in a front as he tries to place the horned and floating creature in front of him, but she is a stranger.
“Wha...” he starts to say, and then realizes that she’s hovering without wings. “Who are you? How are you here? And what do you mean am I dreaming?”
The dun stallion has always been fascinated by the strange magics of Beqanna, but floating unicorn girls who disturb his nap to yell at him and criticize his dreams are something entirely new. He’s not sure he likes it, mostly because he still feels rather drowsy, and rather like his movements are abnormally slow and the world is just a little wrong.
“Did you do something to me?” He asks, his voice rather accusing, and the frown on his face growing deeper. He does not usually mind being used or subjected to the powers of others, but there is something unsettling going on, and he cannot quite name it.
@[Catcher]
His eyes are open, but the edges of the world are soft and foggy. There is no fog in Loess, not with their hot sun, and when he tries to turn and look at the fog it is never there. The stallion frowns, turning on the ledge where he’d been resting, but the movement of his body feels unfamiliar as well. This feels like dreaming, he thinks, but why would he be dreaming of a disembodied voice?
He turns back and there is someone in front of him, and he finds that the disembodied voice is not disembodied after all.
Pteron startles, his wings half flaring as he jolts back against the stone, the sound of his hooves just a little off. His blue and white face creases in a front as he tries to place the horned and floating creature in front of him, but she is a stranger.
“Wha...” he starts to say, and then realizes that she’s hovering without wings. “Who are you? How are you here? And what do you mean am I dreaming?”
The dun stallion has always been fascinated by the strange magics of Beqanna, but floating unicorn girls who disturb his nap to yell at him and criticize his dreams are something entirely new. He’s not sure he likes it, mostly because he still feels rather drowsy, and rather like his movements are abnormally slow and the world is just a little wrong.
“Did you do something to me?” He asks, his voice rather accusing, and the frown on his face growing deeper. He does not usually mind being used or subjected to the powers of others, but there is something unsettling going on, and he cannot quite name it.
@[Catcher]