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Questionable Conversationalist
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 Posted: Mon Feb 11, 2013 8:19 am
A storm was coming. The stallion could feel it prickling in his wings, the edges of his soft bluish-tipped feathers tingling with the pressure the air was charged with. The wind, his beloved wind, was still and thick, like lukewarm water instead of free, clear sky. There were also rolling gray clouds lumbering across the sky, blocking out the late afternoon sun save for a few scraggly rays of light that managed to claw their way through the heavy clouds.
Dathúil knew storms. He loved and hated them. The rush and roar, the power of feral skies tearing into the land in bursts of light and booms of sound, it was so exhilarating. But, out of respect for the ferocious storm, Dath was forced to the ground. Loved to feel their power, hated to be confined. Hated. Hated. There was nothing worse than freedom denied. Nothing at all. Even death was a freedom, a promise that life, no matter what it did, could not keep him forever. But life was not a thing the wind stallion had any intent of giving up just yet. He could choose, and freely, to let life keep him a little longer if it wanted to. And that meant he was obligated to apply at least some sense to his travels. Which meant, yes, that he had to respect the storm.
Disappointment made his heart feel about as heavy as his hooves as he folded his wings, such a glorious thing to have been born with, against his back. They were warm, the muscles well worked but not yet tired. He could have flown into the setting sun, touching down in a strange, new place as the last fingers of light drifted from the starry sky, slipping into soft, cool darkness. Now he was on the ground, where the wind could not whisper and tug him onward. It would surely call him again, he knew it must be calling him now though he couldn't hear the gentle voice, but for now he was ground bound.
Bound.
Ugh. Awful word. He wasn't quite bound though. He was still free to move about. So why not? Dath stared up at the storm, his eyes widening at the sudden flash of lightning that darted across the clouds far and away. It was a beautiful thing. So beautiful. He could forgive it for pushing him out of the sky. Swishing his short tail, he stretched his legs and began to trot. He would be better off with some manner of shelter before the storm really cut loose. A little rain, that was nothing, not a problem, no big deal. The thunder was loud, but he was no longer afraid of the huge crashes of noise. But the lightning, that was dangerous. And wind could be, sometimes. Perhaps he could find a suitable shelter that he could still watch the storm from.
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Posted: Sat Mar 30, 2013 11:15 am
Stormy skies toiled far off above-head. Thick clouds rolled together, clumping into a dense, ominous mass. It looked completely impenetrable, a fortress of the heavens, blocking off anyone who would have sought entrance through them. The air was supercharged with the impending celestial downpour, buzzing with an energy that whispered of the unleashing of free power. The tempest would rain down upon them all, showing the world the raw potency of nature's force. Thunder shook in the distance, reaching Timbira's ears as a remote rumbling.
Worried eyes peeked out from beneath a messy tangle of purple-and-blue hair. Where there was thunder, soon would come lightning and torrential rain. Her front hoof gauged a rut into the damp earth as she scoured it absentmindedly, unable to prevent the tension that ran through her body from escaping. The main body of the storm was still a-way off, but the clouds were rolling in fast, and soon darkness would spread across her homeland. A shudder wriggled up her spine as she worried her lip with her teeth.
Lightning and storms meant incredible danger, that had been drilled into her from a young age, but at the same time... an almost electric twinge spread through her at the thought. Shaking with energy, she cast a guilty look around her. A childish fascination filled her as her eyes widened at the dancing swirls overhead. There was something absolutely breathtakingly beautiful about the raw power unleashed with a bolt of lightning, from the blinding light that shone down to smite the earth to the earsplitting crack that resounded through the air afterwards. An almost irresistible urge to just run out across the plains towards the source of the storm sent her heart racing, a static electricity welling up within her, wanting to join her to the lightning in a deadly marriage.
Shaking her head, her eye lids slowly lowered as she savoured the fresh air. Her flanks expanded, ice shooting down her lungs like a cold breath of reality. Prancing out in the storm would be a suicide mission, she should get back into the forest and hide there until it was over. Sadness filled her face as she turned away from the unfolding chaos. If only she could race through the plains, almost flying, along with the storm. It would be a beautiful amalgamation of energy. Her heart yearned to be out there, to feel alive again.
Chuckling to herself, she reluctantly started plodding back towards the cover of the trees. Freedom. It was a pretty concept.
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Questionable Conversationalist
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Posted: Tue Dec 17, 2013 10:32 am
Dathúil felt the wind rise above him, making him pause again to watch. The clouds chases violently across the sky, they were a continuous mass and far enough away that it might fool those below that they did not move at all. But everything in the sky, every single thing, had to pay heed to the call of the wind. Even the mighty storm could not ignore it, just drown it out for a while. The stallion watched for a few moments more, jealously and frustration warring with the pure awe and exhilaration at seeing something so large and so powerful. He wanted to join it. He wanted to in the most bone-deep of ways. Instead, he squeezed his wings more firmly against his flanks and moved himself to continue on his way. On foot. On the ground.
It did not take him long before his hooves had carried him to the dark line of trees at the edge of the plains. While lightning might like to dance in the higher branches, at least he would not be the storm's sole beacon if he waited here. There might have been other shelter to seek out, safer shelter. A place low in the ground, hidden away from the sky and all of its power, but that did not make it a better shelter. Here, he could see the storm. Here, he could hear the wind. Here he could still feel the sky.
“So beautiful,” he sighed, but his eyes were not facing out to the storm rolling quickly towards the trees. There was another reason why this was the better place to be. There was someone else here. “Do you not agree?” the stallion asked, pacing to where he could see the young mare the storm had brought him to. The storm was beautiful, and so was she. Even if the sky might, just for the moment, be denied him, the pleasure of a stranger's company was always reason enough to rest his wings for a while.
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Posted: Tue Apr 15, 2014 12:19 pm
Even as Timbira reluctantly trotted back to the shelter of the forest, she kept her eyes locked on the skies above. The clouds were shaping beautiful patterns high up above. She wished, more than anything, that she could have been blessed with wings like her mother and brother. Then she could soar, wheel through those static-charged skies and become one with the storm. She could almost feel it, the roar of the wind around her, her muscles straining against the hurricane-strength blasts. Her hair would be plastered against her body, drenched with the force of the sleeting rain. But she would be wild and strong and free. Part of nature. Part of the hurricane.
The sudden explosion of lightning cracked through the atmosphere, striking at some far-off object. The mare bolted, terror seizing her body at the unexpected noise. Timbira was flighty at the best of times, but here, with her heart racing, with her head wrapped up in the heavens, here it reached an entirely new height. The noise arched its way up her spine, sending all her muscles into a tight rigour as adrenaline flooded her senses. She was off, galloping away, entirely caught up in the frenzy of the moment. Pure, exhilarant fear rushed through her, and yet it was the most powerful and cataclysmic emotion she had ever had to joy of experiencing. She let out a loud laugh, letting the shock take over as she dashed for cover.
Her heart was racing, pounding as though trying to escape from her chest. Even as her pace slowed and she found herself safe between the tree trunks, it kept galloping away inside her. It was beautiful, terrifying, amazing. Her legs shook with the after-effects of the adrenaline rush, even then stopping to look behind her once more. She was so wrapped up in the feeling of her experience, that she hadn't even noticed the stranger huddling up in the forest beside her. His voice brought her crashing back to reality.
It was deep and mysterious, filled with the same breathless fascination she herself felt. Maybe it was that reason that stopped her from freezing up, stopped her sinking into the stuttering wreck she usually became when others spoke to her. Though she didn't recognise it, she instinctively felt that he had the same pull, that same undying attraction for the storm overhead. "B-beautiful, yes." Her traitorous voice still caught on the first word, but she squared her shoulders, trying to force herself to get over her fear, to be as strong and free as she yearned to be. "Beyond beautiful, even."
She dared a quick look back, turning her head to be able to see the mysterious stranger. He was handsome, devilishly so. The dwindling light accented his pale fur, making him look at though he was almost glowing. Timbira gulped, struggling to get over the encroaching fear. Dammit, how could she be so willing to fly freely into a raging storm, and yet be so tentative to talk to this stallion?
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