07-14-2024, 08:35 PM
On a cold, late-winter evening Abrus ventures out of the forest. It is an act that feels unnatural to him, for he fancies that the boughs of Beqanna’s forests have come to relish having his magic so near and miss when he had buried himself beneath their roots for a time to rest. Or maybe it is just that his magic is stronger in the tree-dappled shadows and he prefers the feeling that courses through him there in contrast to the more muted roar of power that he feels in meadows or by oceans.
Since waking from his recent multi-year nap he feels a growing interest in this world and it is that which draws him out of the forest and into the meadow that seems so popular as a place to both live and visit. The trees there are bare but he knows they sense what he does - that spring is just around the corner. Already the days feel a little longer and he knows the mice have seen snowdrops shyly poking through the earth, and he has felt the underground shift of nutrients in preparation for that great awakening.
Abrus mutes his awareness of nature as he stands beneath an oak tree. His companion is flying around the meadow, their eyes glowing matching white as she takes it all in for him - circling and mapping the area and those currently within it.
The sun is nearly set when she returns to him and he grows his antlers for her - two twisting stems rise from his mane, branching off and thickening to the point where they can support her weight just in time for her black feet to reach out and land upon a tine.
Since waking from his recent multi-year nap he feels a growing interest in this world and it is that which draws him out of the forest and into the meadow that seems so popular as a place to both live and visit. The trees there are bare but he knows they sense what he does - that spring is just around the corner. Already the days feel a little longer and he knows the mice have seen snowdrops shyly poking through the earth, and he has felt the underground shift of nutrients in preparation for that great awakening.
Abrus mutes his awareness of nature as he stands beneath an oak tree. His companion is flying around the meadow, their eyes glowing matching white as she takes it all in for him - circling and mapping the area and those currently within it.
The sun is nearly set when she returns to him and he grows his antlers for her - two twisting stems rise from his mane, branching off and thickening to the point where they can support her weight just in time for her black feet to reach out and land upon a tine.
@Sheer