even a n g e l s fall
Creamy mounds of mane fall in rivulets over my sapphire gem eyes, they do not hide, nor conceal the curiosity etched within them. Clear like marble, transparent like glass. This man, he can read me, I can feel it within his stare. For moments, I am taken aback, cool, as calm and collected as one can be when you can feel the recesses of your mind cut open like some ripe fruit and explored with groping fingers. There is nothing in my mind that is secret; I am part of the Chamber, like the ash and the earth, the needles and the pinecones. Yet I am nothing like this man, he smells of what once had been, and what will be. He smells of the past and of the future, and this ideal, it arouses me with a sense of knowing, a sense of want. I was one to collect knowledge, like Killdare collected scents, like Straia collected pet crows and ravens. My mind was wide, broad and bursting with knowledge, and yet, yet there is always room for more.
Others filter in; Warship. His burning inside, brighter now. Meaner in a way. I acknowledge the General with an inclination of my mottled muzzle, turning then to listen, catching his words like they are cobwebs. Gryffen. The tormentor, the ghost who lurked with eyes as red as blood. I knew not his intentions here, with the Chamber or nought, but I knew he was a strong individual to aid, or to hinder the Chamber's prospects, and for which I was uncertain on the direction, but for now, he gets my respect. I am silent as they discuss, old habits, old worn words. There is history, like the scars on the Chamber floor.
I catch his scent, before I see him, feel him sidle up beside me. His gentle offering does not go unnoticed, the smirk upon my lips brightens somewhat, unbiased and uncaring that there were others, I drew my muzzle across the bay steed's shoulder and greeted him with a tender lipping of his black threads, before being pulled back into the now, into Set's direction, where I step an languid few paces closer, golden head lifting, ears fluttering against the mounds of cream mane. 'Because nothing is too much trouble, and nothing is enough. I strive for the Chamber, and it seems my efforts have been rewarded.' a pause, a roll of my sloping shoulders, sapphire eyes drawing up to meet Set's. 'Because Straia has seen there is no pine untouched, no eye closed and nothing unchecked. With me, I aim for the Chamber to be it's utmost. And I will not rest until she is.' there is a promise there, bound by blood and sweat, by tears and the fine slivers of soul. The Chamber has seen me for few years now, and will see me for many, many more.
'Welcome home, it would seem.' because he seems far more at home here, than even the weathered pines. As though one who has shared many a glory and many a tribulation, has bled and fought. He had my watchful eye, a curious admiration.
engelsfors
advisor of the chamber