the sky has never looked so clear; any

[Warrick]

like the sun swallowed up by the earth

The newness of spring has unraveled on all of Beqanna, but as always, Tephra remains unchanged. Hot, sweltering, and humid, filled with thick and ash-filled air that almost looks like snowfall against the lush greenery of jungle as well as creates the haunting black shorelines of the ocean.

He stands on the shoreline, hooves planted firmly into the compacted, wet sand beneath him, his cerulean gaze staring upwards. This time of night brings on a certain stillness; the waves are gently lapping at the charcoal shores, pulled back and forth only by the power of the full moon. Not even the cobalt of his feathers move within the stillness, lying flat and freshly groomed against his auburn sides, smooth against his ribcage. The moonlight is cool against his skin, its silver light illuminating the taut muscles of his shoulders and haunches, highlighting in the sharp angles of his jaw.

Warrick’s heart and mind soars with the clouds and the night sky, drifting in between the stars and the silver light of the moon. His thoughts are swirling, much like the slow drift of billowing smoke into the midnight sky, sparkling with gentle pinpricks of glowing ashes fresh from the volcano’s belly. The stallion reflects on Tangerine (his mind never far from her), and how much he has missed her during winter - and still does. Home is where the heart is - but his heart is elsewhere. He then wonders of his children, still sight unseen upon his return to Tephra, and does his best to swallow the pang of worry that churns in his stomach. They are grown now, and he has taught them well, and he must trust them. He cannot help, though, to wish they were with him at this moment.

His thoughts flit to Offspring - to Dahmer and Nymphetamine, to Ellyse, to the rest of Beqanna. Unrest between the kingdoms has reared its ugly head (peace does not last forever, he reminds himself) and soon, he fears, it will be transformed into something much greater. Perhaps the fact that Tangerine is nowhere near the high tensions of these political affairs are a blessing - he knows with her in the Great Plains, she will be safe.

He sighs deeply, his thoughtful gaze still scanning the constellations spread out before him, intently watching as they play hide-and-seek between the mixture of cloud and smoke. It is late; most of the other residents should be sleeping. He wonders quietly to himself, however, if it is only him who had trouble finding rest.

Warrick