"(souls are not meant to live more than once — death was not meant to be temporary, and she is so sure that every time her heart starts to beat again that irreversible damage is further inflicted)" -- Anonya, written by Colby
Gale run away with me-- lost souls and reverie running wild and running free
The distant cry of the seahawk wakes him. Blinking sleepy blue eyes, Gael shakes his head even while a yawn takes him, struggling to rid himself of sleep. He’d been having a dream, one that he is already forgetting. There’d been a green mare that might have been Divest, and a whole flock of ospreys. A strange dream, to be sure.
The sun is little more than a soft glow above the sea, its light diffused by heavy clouds. They carry thunderstorms, Gale is sure, a frequent occurrence during the late autumn and early winter. The brindle stallion enjoys the rain – or at least watching it fall from a dry place – but there is much he must do before those clouds cross his beach. Erne, the osprey whose call had woken him, has flown nearer, and now circles overhead. The bird does not show emotion on its face in a way that Gale knows (now could he see from this distance even if he did), but there is happiness in the mental tether between them. Erne is eager for the rain as well, knowing that after, the fish will rise to the surface to catch the water-logged insects, only to be caught themselves by the osprey’s impressive talons.
But now is the time for patrol, not for fishing.
It takes little more than a heartbeat and the closing of his own eyes. It’s a special trick and one he’s still perfecting, but it is invaluable on this sparsely populated isle. When Gale opens his eyes again, he sees the island resort from Erne’s perspective. Far above the trees, with vision more precise than Gale’s own. This bird vision makes some things look strange, and focusing overlong on the differences results in immense migraines once he returns to his own eyes. Instead he allows Erne to look as he likes, his predator’s eyes scanning for movement rather than detail. Unnatural movement. The first thing he sees is Eyas, meandering down the northern shore. Had she slept, he wonders? She has not slept much of late.
But Eyas is not what he seeks, and Erne banks away, gliding on the warm and storm-thick air until he’s circled the entire island. There are no strangers here, no changes during the night. With a contented thank you to his companion, Gale slips back into his own eyes. The world is fuzzy, and will remain so for some time, but that method of patrol is worth the half-hour or so of blurred vision. It’d take five times as long to do the route on foot, after all. Gale had done the math after Eyas asked, though he hopes that with more practice the recovery time will be shorter.
With that done, the young chief of the island makes his way toward the spring that flows into the southeastern shore. From here, he can see the distant haze of Tephra and the volcano reaching into the clouds. Soon the coming storm will turn the horizon gray, but for now he drinks his fill and breaks his night fast with the salty purple grasses that grow atop the black dunes.
07-11-2020, 07:06 PM (This post was last modified: 07-11-2020, 07:07 PM by Nashua.)
He has time for one last trip. One last 'grand adventure', as Yanhua likes to call them, before winter sets in. Nashua had thought about flying to Leilan's island again. The young stallion wasn't averse to the idea of another trip to see the Freyr of Icicle Isle and his young ward, Alcinder. But then, he had already made that journey. His mind is already dreaming of a new adventure. Beyond Tephra, perhaps? The early autumn weather was still fair and this day (though thunderheads loomed) might prove to be another unseasonably warm and pleasant one. He is teased again for his capriciousness by his twin but the promise that grinning Nash makes is the same: he'll be back.
The day is beckoning to Nashua and the sun is already higher than he'd like when he takes to the sky.
Though this day had started amiable enough (the breezes light, the currents fair), the darkening horizon is telling. The clouds look expectant with rain and one copper ear flicks, trying to determine if he hears a rumble of thunder in the distance. The wind picks up and Nashua can feel the temperature drop as the weather front pushes closer to the Tephran coast that the chestnut colt has left behind him. The young pegasus has a daredevil moment where thinks that he might attempt to ride out the approaching storm but even as fool-hardy as he can sometimes be, he uses his better judgment to rule against that idea. When he is older, maybe. When he has put his wings through a few more tests.
It sounds like the kind of idea that Celina would approve of, anyway.
As the dropping temperature continues to rise, Nashua lowers his elevation and he's rather a turbulent sight in the sky above when he isn't flapping his auburn wings. With his wings spread out, he can't soar long and it makes his landing on the island beach more of a nosedive than he intended. Not the most graceful of landings but as a coming two-year-old, Nash still has time to figure those out. He will figure them out because the young stallion has a determination to become as good of a flier as his elder siblings. The sand beneath his hooves is black, he realizes and takes a moment to consider it as he looks down between his forelegs. Similar to the beach he landed on when he visited Icicle Isle but the climate of the Resort is inviting. Warmer. Almost tropical, even though winter approaches the rest of Beqanna.
Nash glances out towards the ocean, regarding the hazy outlines of Tephra's volcano before he turns towards the smell of water. Looking to quenching his thirst after his flight, he follows the bright scent of water towards the center of the island. Nashua might have beat the storm but somebody beat him to the spring. The winged boy tilts his head inquisitively, regarding the blue tobiano in front of him. His green eyes linger on his white wings and flick briefly to the horns (reminding him of his brother) before he smiles, lopsided and boyish.
"It seems great minds think alike," says his greeting to the elder pegasus as the younger approached the spring. "Did the storm force you to land here too?"
The other stallion smells like salt and brine, of the marsh grass around them so Nash assumes not.
Gale run away with me-- lost souls and reverie running wild and running free
Erne holds the back half of a good-sized mackerel in his talons, but he watches the stranger rather than finish the rest of it.
Gale watches him as well, through the osprey’s eyes until he is near enough to see him with his own blurred vision. Though the colt is nothing more than a blurred golden shape that smells of a pine forest, Gale recognizes him. He has seen him before, though through eyes not his own. His magic tends to wander in sleep, and he dreams of what others have seen when those others are linked to him. This pegasus is not, for all their shared blood.
Not until now, at least, Gale finds himself thinking.
Perhaps it is fitting that as they prepare to rid themselves of some parts of their family, other parts begin to fill the spaces they will leave.
Secluded as he has been for the last few years, socializing only with a bird that shares his mind and his sister, Gale is not the best at socializing. But there is a shift in the blur in front of him that looks to be a smile, so Gale smiles back. He knows, at least, not to lead with what is foremost in his mind – has Nashua come here to find them, or by random chance? The second, it seems, as the other comes just a bit nearer.
“This is my home,” he replies, having swallowed the last of the lavender grasses. “And a good place to shelter from the storm.” There is a small pause, and then he adds: “My name is Gale.”
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