It is raining and cold when Litotes finally leaves Pangea.
After so much upheaval in Beqanna, the shadow-weaver has spent as much time as he can within the borders of Pangea. As much as he travelled and called little paradises his home, he could never truly resist the call of his once-kingdom. He’s spent many nights regaling his family with tales of the past, the old and still not even the oldest version of Beqanna.
That age-old tugging pulls at his chest, though—as it so often seems to now. He cannot shake it, even as his shadows shiver and hiss at the heavy rain.
“Quiet,” he murmurs to the dark, commanding them to wrap tightly around his body. Before him is the soft, persistent rushing of the river. It is perhaps a bit heavier than usual due to the weather, but that doesn’t stop him from placing his front hooves into the icy rush. The water pressing needily into his hocks reminds him of something, a bit of the past and a bit of the present. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in . . .
. . . a long breath out . . .
“Oh,” he says, a stray sound finding his ears. Lie turns his head peering up the riverbank.
“Who’s out in the rain with me?”
as it softly glides across your back
and i hope you leave right before the sun comes up
so i can watch it alone
@Squirt
