let my shadows prove the sunshine
He’s at home beside the water and once he’s beside Pteron he breathes a heavy sigh as the ocean laps at his ivory legs. There’d been a time in Hyaline where he had made his roost beneath the shade of a swaying willow tree that leaned out across over the crystalline lake at its center. The lake was never as rough as the seas in his homeland of Tephra, but the overo stallion enjoyed the vast differences in scenery; especially a scenery that involved the winged stallion beside him.
Svedka’s eyes meet his with a sparkling laugh, lifting his chin ever so slightly as to model the flowers braided carefully through his mane for him. “Then I suspect you should be given an official tour.” He pauses, allowing the sound of the ocean to overtake him but only for a moment. “Not that I’m a diplomat or anything,” Svedka adds with a wrinkle of his nose, “I’m not one to take on such responsibilities, if you couldn’t tell.” He laughs, reaching forward to playfully tug at the flaxen and teal tendrils of Pteron’s mane that is saturated with salty ocean spray.
“Hear? I’d much rather show you,” Svedka’s jovial voice quickly turns sultry as he reaches once again towards him, but places his lips firmly at the base of Pteron’s creamy throat. The overo stallion dances away, the ocean stirring angrily against his prancing legs. He flicks his tail against his hind, snorting sharply at the idea of a run across the beach that is now tainted orange and yellow with the Tephran sun’s dying light. Svedka paws at the darkening water beneath them, splashing and frothing. “A run sounds heavenly.”
He does not wait for any words from Pteron; instead, the stallion leaps forward, falling into an easy gallop just along where the sand meets the sea. He’s laughing as he streaks down the beach, splashing into shallow pools of lukewarm water and then back into damp sand again, kicking out his back legs. Perhaps it will be a race between the two, but Svedka has no finish line in mind and he cannot help how the salty sea wind and the rolling ocean fill him with such wildness and freedom.
There is a bend in the near distance where the looming volcano stands and Svedka quickly decides that the black sand beach beneath its shadow will be their first stop. He neighs loudly to Pteron in order to be heard over their thundering hooves and the beating of the waves against the shoreline, petals of burnt orange and violet spiraling out behind him as they become unwoven from his mane in his wild running.
svedka
@[Pteron]