[private] arms are wide open, ready for a change to come

[Tavani]

Tavani stands in the meadow, her eyes skywards on the sunlit clouds she believes are Stratos, but does not extend her wings to bring herself there. Her strange eyes, her cat-like pupils the same periwinkle as the sky as the sun moves from dawn to day, roam the golden edges of the clouds as if mapping them - memorizing them. She could go there now, she’s sure. The rumours have spread that the council has dissolved, that there are pockets of Stratosians still living there but many have turned to Beqanna and accepted that they will not be returning to the world from which they came. If there was ever a time for her to walk on those clouds and experience the place she’s only known the shadows of, this was it. But she does not move. She wishes she was bold enough to spite the way she had been raised in secret - wishes she had the courage to do this one thing that seemed so simple from the outside. Tavani has neither of these things so she remains rooted to the ground, shuffling her night-dark wings a little but that is all the movement she makes. There are rain clouds rolling in, promising to overtake the sun soon, and she imagines how spectacular a storm would be viewed from above. Although she soars with lightning in her heart and imagination, Tavani’s hooves still do not budge from the ground. tavani