02-23-2020, 08:55 PM
A humid breeze pulls at his mane, still drying and stiff with seasalt. The thick white hair runs from between his golden ears, down his neck and across his striped back until it merges with an equally pale tail. His father’s mane, he knows now. Wolfbane. Laughing Sister – Eyas – had given Gale back his name, as well as the opportunity to know his family. It is sometimes still hard to believe, but each sunrise that he watches seems to cement the reality of it. He had asked Divest if she meant to stay in Island Resort her whole life, and since that conversation he has been trying to answer it for himself. Does he mean to stay here forever?
It is a beautiful place, as quiet and restive as Castile had promised. Ruinam, though distant at times, rules with benevolence. There is no danger here, no shadows, no lava. The rainbow of flora and the shadow of the fauna are like nowhere else in Beqanna. A tropical paradise, with blue seas and endless, empty white beaches. Gale opens his eyes on such a beach, where he stands to watch the sunrise. The dawn swim that had soaked his tricolored body still warms his body, and the rapid beat of his heart is still gradually slowing to a resting rate. At his sides, snowy wings are spread wide, their feathers far drier than his white mane. The long feathers at the end rest on the land, and Gale will shake them free of it before he folds them back to his sides. For now he is content to leave them open, soaking up the warm light of the rising sin as readily as the rainbow of flora around him.
Exercise before dawn is something he remembers from his childhood, something that he does not need sound or smell to recall. The feel of his beating wings and galloping legs in the dim light before daybreak are familiar, even if the body with which he does them is not the same as the one in his memories. There are some things that Gale does not understand about his resurrection, and there are some things that he wishes he did not. He had not told Laughing Sister – no, Eyas. Her name is Eyas. He had not told her that he remembers how he died.
He recalls each part of it in excruciating detail, but had focused on the scars on her body and kept that secret even when he’d spilled his others.
Gale cannot burden anyone with that. He can barely carry it himself.
Dawns like this make it easier though. Dawns like this, he is most aware of this idyllic existence he has found on the Island Resort.
Having closed his eyes again to soak in the sun, Gale opens them only at an unexpected sound. He’s not sure what it is, but his electric-blue eyes flick about as rapidly as his near-white ears as he searches for the source. The rest of his body remains unchanged, from his flared wings to the way his navy-streaked sides rise and fall at a relaxed pace. There are no dangers here, and so there is no fear: only pleasant surprises.
@[Bruja]
phone post sorry!
It is a beautiful place, as quiet and restive as Castile had promised. Ruinam, though distant at times, rules with benevolence. There is no danger here, no shadows, no lava. The rainbow of flora and the shadow of the fauna are like nowhere else in Beqanna. A tropical paradise, with blue seas and endless, empty white beaches. Gale opens his eyes on such a beach, where he stands to watch the sunrise. The dawn swim that had soaked his tricolored body still warms his body, and the rapid beat of his heart is still gradually slowing to a resting rate. At his sides, snowy wings are spread wide, their feathers far drier than his white mane. The long feathers at the end rest on the land, and Gale will shake them free of it before he folds them back to his sides. For now he is content to leave them open, soaking up the warm light of the rising sin as readily as the rainbow of flora around him.
Exercise before dawn is something he remembers from his childhood, something that he does not need sound or smell to recall. The feel of his beating wings and galloping legs in the dim light before daybreak are familiar, even if the body with which he does them is not the same as the one in his memories. There are some things that Gale does not understand about his resurrection, and there are some things that he wishes he did not. He had not told Laughing Sister – no, Eyas. Her name is Eyas. He had not told her that he remembers how he died.
He recalls each part of it in excruciating detail, but had focused on the scars on her body and kept that secret even when he’d spilled his others.
Gale cannot burden anyone with that. He can barely carry it himself.
Dawns like this make it easier though. Dawns like this, he is most aware of this idyllic existence he has found on the Island Resort.
Having closed his eyes again to soak in the sun, Gale opens them only at an unexpected sound. He’s not sure what it is, but his electric-blue eyes flick about as rapidly as his near-white ears as he searches for the source. The rest of his body remains unchanged, from his flared wings to the way his navy-streaked sides rise and fall at a relaxed pace. There are no dangers here, and so there is no fear: only pleasant surprises.
@[Bruja]
phone post sorry!