As with most of Sabra's children, Saphris' childhood had been cut far too short. The mad mare's final child had been born of the Dark God, when her mind had been at it's most fragmented. Perhaps he might have been grateful to know that in letting him go, she had spared him more violence.
It helped, that he had more closure than most receive when a loved one dies. The afterlife had opened to the boy, and the woman Rhys had allowed him a last day with his family. The last gift of his mother had been a name, and it had been all he carried with him when he returned to the living lands.
He'd survived, because that was what his mother had asked him to do. Survived in a half-feral way, without herd or home to guide him. The sky-bright pegasus found himself avoiding others, lost with the demands of society and much more at ease when it was simply him and the clouds. Every bird must land eventually, though, and so today he brought himself down on a smooth looking plateau, red sandstone gritty underfoot. A light breeze pulled at the teal locks of his knotted mane, the dark colour glowing blue-white in sporadic flashes of electricity.
It was a pretty view from here, endless plains and cut away cliffs. Ideal for hawks and eagles to roost in such isolated walls of stone. Safe. A deep, filling breath expanded the boy's ribcage as he contemplated the sparten ground. Hardly anything seemed to grow, at least on this particular mesa. Weak winter sunlight lightly brushed his spine as he gave up on a meal. It didn't seem to be in the cards with this landing. Instead, he found himself leaning over the edge of the cliff, sandstone crunching against his hooves as the canyon opened up beneath him.
In the shade of the canyon, brief foliage seemed to grow. It was all prickly, sharp looking things, but plants nonetheless. Worth trying, if nothing else. The broad wings opened, already catching on the updraft the stone formations created. He could glide forever on the columns of air these canyons offered. It was easy enough to step out, to let the ground's support fall away.
Heart leaping into his throat, the blue boy plummeted meters before the wind caught him in a swooping upcurve. A shout of pure joy crowed from his throat, echoing along the canyon like a falcon scream. House outstretched wings held him aloft in a lazy spiral as the canyon bottom stretched beneath him, the rising walls striped with the sediment of ages.
Mane and tail streaming in the wind, he banked precisely to avoid the walls. The sky became a ribbon overhead as the ground neared, and at last his hooves clattered to land with practiced grace. It had been a good, if short flight, and now he could find some kind of roughage to take the edge off his growing hunger. It was promising to be a day worth remembering.
@[Dove]
It helped, that he had more closure than most receive when a loved one dies. The afterlife had opened to the boy, and the woman Rhys had allowed him a last day with his family. The last gift of his mother had been a name, and it had been all he carried with him when he returned to the living lands.
He'd survived, because that was what his mother had asked him to do. Survived in a half-feral way, without herd or home to guide him. The sky-bright pegasus found himself avoiding others, lost with the demands of society and much more at ease when it was simply him and the clouds. Every bird must land eventually, though, and so today he brought himself down on a smooth looking plateau, red sandstone gritty underfoot. A light breeze pulled at the teal locks of his knotted mane, the dark colour glowing blue-white in sporadic flashes of electricity.
It was a pretty view from here, endless plains and cut away cliffs. Ideal for hawks and eagles to roost in such isolated walls of stone. Safe. A deep, filling breath expanded the boy's ribcage as he contemplated the sparten ground. Hardly anything seemed to grow, at least on this particular mesa. Weak winter sunlight lightly brushed his spine as he gave up on a meal. It didn't seem to be in the cards with this landing. Instead, he found himself leaning over the edge of the cliff, sandstone crunching against his hooves as the canyon opened up beneath him.
In the shade of the canyon, brief foliage seemed to grow. It was all prickly, sharp looking things, but plants nonetheless. Worth trying, if nothing else. The broad wings opened, already catching on the updraft the stone formations created. He could glide forever on the columns of air these canyons offered. It was easy enough to step out, to let the ground's support fall away.
Heart leaping into his throat, the blue boy plummeted meters before the wind caught him in a swooping upcurve. A shout of pure joy crowed from his throat, echoing along the canyon like a falcon scream. House outstretched wings held him aloft in a lazy spiral as the canyon bottom stretched beneath him, the rising walls striped with the sediment of ages.
Mane and tail streaming in the wind, he banked precisely to avoid the walls. The sky became a ribbon overhead as the ground neared, and at last his hooves clattered to land with practiced grace. It had been a good, if short flight, and now he could find some kind of roughage to take the edge off his growing hunger. It was promising to be a day worth remembering.
@[Dove]