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 Posted: Wed Dec 13, 2006 4:05 pm
 Sand glistened faintly beneath a blanket of stars, and, looking out in all directions, the beach seemed to last forever. The coastline here was flat; flatter and wider than most along the shore, and it stretched for what seemed like miles before ever slipping beneath the waves. It felt empty, this place. Not an unpleasant sort of empty, but empty nonetheless. Night had fallen hours ago, and now the darkness and stillness and sense of peace it always brought seemed to have sunk into each fine grain of sand.
And above, alone, a solitary Nequus was flying. Powerful, leathery wings carried him through the night air, a dark shape against a darker canvas. His coat should have been almost black under the veil of night. Normally when he went out it would have been in shadow, and greyed past the point of colour - he did not fly often, and when he did it was out of sight, under cloud cover that darkened the land and air alike. But tonight the moon was full. Tonight the clouds that had gathered steadily over the course of the afternoon had been swept, suddenly, aside by a soft, southerly breeze, and the sky was clear and unblemished save for the pricklings of stars in the distance.
He was not shadowed tonight. The black wings carried a frame of purple and peppered maroon across the cloudless sky, and any that might have been watching might - just - have been able to pick out the soft moonlight illuminating his dark mane, his tail, his horn.
The Nequus himself saw none of it. The sky above was just a clean rushing of wind about his ears; the beach below little more than the sound of lapping water against sand.
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Posted: Wed Dec 13, 2006 4:24 pm
 Shimmering in the tiny pools of water that had caught in the sand, the moon's reflection beckoned a small figure onward. He walked along the shoreline at a leisurely pace, his posture and mannerisms suggesting the beginnings of fatigue.
It had been a long night for Vox.
His hoofprints stretched out behind him in a long, winding line. Exploring the coast was a good form of exercise, he suspected Lucius would say, and for his part the colt enjoyed the simple pleasure of discovering a different view around every corner. It was a good night for wandering, too, cool and clear and full of moonlight. The touch of the moon was always welcome to him.
A shadow fell upon the sand some way ahead. Vox followed it with his eyes for a moment, wondering at the familiar shape and pattern of movement, before looking up to see what (or, more to the point, who) was casting it.
He had never seen a Reya before.
At once his gaze was captured, and his imagination followed soon after. Those tails! What manner of Nequus was this? He had never dreamed that such a creature could exist, let alone that he should see one in the flesh - and flying so well, too, bother whoever it was. His heart sank a little: his own attempts at flying, while progressively more competent, paled by comparison to this.
Perhaps he could strike up a conversation when the other Nequus landed, compliment...him? Probably him...on his skill. Yes, that would be a fine start indeed. He might even bring a moment of happiness into the stranger's life - how many of those there already were each day he knew not, and it did not particularly seem to matter.
Making himself as visible as he could, he trotted along after the shadow and waited to be noticed.
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Posted: Thu Dec 14, 2006 3:29 pm
The Reya shifted his wings until the wind against the leathery canvas of his wings felt at once hard enough to draw him down and soft enough to do so slowly, and steadily, gently, began to drop from the sky. A moment later he twisted his descent into a sweeping circle, trading speed for care and safety. Considering his disability, landings - even on such flat grounds as this - were not to be taken lightly. Though his composure and graceful movements spoke only of calm and ease, below the surface his muscles were set to tense at a second's notice.
For what seemed like minutes he wheeled, silent, above the sand, coat shimmering in the moon's pale light. Then, apparently satisfied with his height - he had noted the drop in wind pressure on his wings, perhaps, or the change in temperature as he neared the ground, - the stallion levelled out, smoothed his trajectory and braced himself for the impact.
He felt the sand beneath his hooves all too soon.
The shock he expected, of course, but, as it always did, the surprise stole precious seconds of concentration from his landing. His legs fairly buckled beneath him, and as his hooves dug into the sand, it seemed, for an awful moment, that the beach would reach up and tear his balance from him.
It did not: he managed, with great effort, to push forward and stagger the several paces that would slow him to a halt, wings flapping hard against the air to grant him some stability. At least, he thought, leaving the pace of the sky and the terror of landing behind him, few would be around to see him at this time of night. He shook his head, snorted quietly, and drew himself to a halt, pausing for a minute or two with the intention of stretching his wings while they were still warm. He did not want to leave before he had to.
It was, after all, a long and difficult walk back.
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Posted: Fri Dec 15, 2006 3:00 pm
Vox watched, transfixed, as the unfamiliar Nequus wheeled in the sky above him. It was a glorious display, and a beautiful night upon which to behold it. The moon herself seemed to smile down upon the performer as he swooped in a wide circle over the shore. Her dedicated follower could not help smiling up in turn. ...But now the other was descending, so he stopped following and left a large gap between them to allow for a safe landing.
The thump of hooves on sand startled him, not so much because the sound was loud or sudden but because it seemed to have such an effect upon the dark-coated Nequus. He had been coming down just a little too fast, the colt thought at first, but on reflection it seemed more as though the ground had caught him by surprise. Had he not seen it there? It was hardly that dark, was it?
Concerned for the other's welfare, he trotted slowly closer in an unthreatening manner. "Hail, Nequus," he called in a gentle voice. "Are you well? May I assist you in any way?"
It did no harm to ask, even if the stallion seemed twice his size.
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Posted: Sat Jan 06, 2007 7:48 am
With the soft pain of the shock still coursing through his legs, his wings half-stretched into the cool air, his body faintly trembling after the landing, Altair heard the voice and paused. So someone had been there to see. Someone with a gentle voice, perhaps, but someone nonetheless. How long had they been there? How long had they been watching him? Were there more, he wondered, a group of five, ten, or more, standing in silence, invisible, holding their tongues? The quiet tread of hooves across the sand suggested that this one, at least, had been fairly close - and was coming closer still.
He kept his head still and sniffed cautiously at the air, ears straining for any further sound that might give the other - or others - away. By his tone, the Nequus sounded young. A colt, perhaps. But why would a colt be out here, at such a late hour on such a cold night, without company?
"I am fine, thank you," he answered slowly, continuing to stretch as though he had never stopped. It was too much to hope that the other would miss his hesitation, but with luck it would pass without comment. Keeping his head turned his head as though looking at the horizon, he added, "And you needn't concern yourself with me or my wellbeing - I am quite capable of that myself."
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Posted: Sun Jan 07, 2007 5:03 am
The stallion's tone had the effect of making Vox feel very young indeed. He bowed his head, chastened - of course, he must have offended the elder Nequus' pride by offering his assistance. To need the help of a foal, an adult would have to be weak indeed. Augh, why had he not thought about this before opening his mouth?
"...My apologies, sir," he mumbled. "I meant you no offence. It was foolish of me to assume I could be of any use to you - I realise that now. I shall...I shall trouble you no further."
Utterly disheartened, he turned away and began his slow progress back towards his tree. The night held little interest for him now, and even the moonlight brought him no comfort. He was useless. Utterly useless. Why had he even left his tree tonight?
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Posted: Fri Jan 12, 2007 3:32 am
The Reya could not help breathing a quiet sigh of relief. For a few moments he simply stood (apparently looking out to the sea, in reality listening for the faint sounds of the colt retreating), as though the chance meeting was of no concern to him. He could not help but feel somewhat shaken. At least the young Nequus had seemed the obedient sort, though. If anyone he didn't know had to witness his awkward landing, better that it be someone easily turned away than one less polite.
After a while Altair folded his wings back against his body and checked the air. The soft wind blowing in from the sea and the scents it carried him his direction, and, putting the colt's interruption out of mind, he set off slowly across the sand.
A few steps away his knee buckled.
The little cry that escaped him, while quiet, was unmistakably that of a Nequus in pain. Surprise alone he could have coped with in silence - he had learned to do so, for he drew enough attention landing as it was - but the sharp, stabbing pain up the side of his left foreleg was not something he knew so well, nor something so easily ignored.
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Posted: Mon Jan 15, 2007 7:37 am
Now, Vox was not a disobedient colt. He respected the decisions of those older and wiser than himself, and acted accordingly. However, he was also a good Nequus at heart. He could not so easily ignore the Reya's cry of pain. To walk away now, despite the stallion's clear disdain for him, would be abhorrent.
So he turned and trotted slowly back.
"...I know you wanted me to go, sir," he said softly, taking care not to go within the range of hooves or teeth and keeping an eye on that wickedly sharp horn. "You made that clear, and I apologise for my return. But I assure you that I am alone, and that I mean you no harm. I...could not ignore the clear signs of your distress. It is not in my nature to turn my back on the injured, sir, and I do not easily go against my nature. So please...tell me what I can do. I am only small, but there must be some way I can help you."
His imploring gaze would likely have won most Nequus over. Vox had not realised that this particular Nequus could not see him standing there at all.
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Posted: Wed Jan 17, 2007 6:13 am
After so carelessly allowing the cry to escape his mouth, Altair attempted to wrest control back from the pain. Whatever injury it was, he found himself thinking through the haze, it would not do to stop and fret over it here. Who knew what creatures were out there that would prey on an injured Nequus that could not even see his attackers? He needed to return to the cave. Return to safety. And for that he would have to walk: flying was out of the question much closer to the cliffs and jagged rocks out there.
Teeth clenched, he dragged his hoof forward, grimacing as the dagger of pain struck again and tore a whimper from his throat.
He had managed three such steps, quietly shaking, when the little patter of hooves across the sand came again to his ears. He stopped, swallowing the most recent cry, and made an attempt at composure while the colt spoke.
If the other Nequus spoke truthfully then he was alone. Listening for sounds of a herd and finding none, the Reya tentatively confirmed it and felt a little of the anxiety slipped away. If the colt was not lying about that then, would he then lie about not meaning any harm? How much harm could he even do, if he so chose, by himself? Not only did his voice sound young, but it also sounded from below him. The colt was a small one. While Altair was able neither to see nor move quickly with this injury, whatever it was, if it came to a fight or chase he might still overcome the little Nequus.
He shuffled forward a little, wincing again as his leg protested. "I doubt you have the skill to take away this pain, young one," he said quietly, head still turned away, "and without - ah - without that I do not see how you can be of any help..."
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Posted: Wed Jan 17, 2007 7:56 am
It was true. Vox shuffled uncertainly, looking down at the injured leg. He could see no blood or bruising - perhaps the stallion had jarred it in his awkward landing. That had happened to him often enough while he was learning the basics of flying. But surely...surely one who flew so well should have mastered landing by now. Shouldn't he?
That, added to the fact that the Reya was deliberately not looking at him - the strange, clouded white eyes were forever gazing elsewhere, and even when they glanced at him they seemed almost to look through him - suggested to Vox that something was wrong. Very wrong. And he didn't mean with the stranger's leg.
Then it hit him.
The Reya had, quite literally, not seen the ground coming.
"...Let me be your eyes," he said softly. "I can clear your path and spare you further injury, warn you of dangers or any change in the ground. And no one looking on would think anything of it: a colt playing ahead of a stallion, the guardian following patiently behind his charge."
Having said all this, he hoped two things: first, that he was correct about the Reya's condition, and second, that he would not be considered a threat if he made his knowledge clear.
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Posted: Sun Jan 21, 2007 5:42 am
For a moment or two it seemed the colt's words had gone unheard. The Reya remained still and silent, head somewhat bowed, somewhat turned away. Only when a little breeze ran its fingers through the slight curls of his forelock did he react, shaking his head to clear the hair from his eyes and turning to the young Nequus nearby.
White eyes stared through him.
He knew. The little colt had guessed within the first few minutes of their acquaintance without being told a thing, and Altair could not help wondering how many others must have guessed in turn. It was frustrating to think that he could not hide his condition even with effort.
It was not the colt's fault, though, and refusing his offer would be unreasonable, given the circumstances. Even a little help would get him back swifter than no help at all, and the sooner he returned to safety, the better. The little cave was his sanctuary, and once he returned to the shelter it provided, the fleeting injury - for he refused to believe it was anything more - would be of lesser importance. He had no doubt that rest would see it healed.
"...Tell me who you are," he said slowly, head still turned towards the Nequus. "Tell me why I should trust you. And tell me also," he added, tails flicking quietly across the sand, "how far you wish to go to help me. The beach grows rough before I am even half way back. The rocks are sharp if you know not where they hide. It is no place for a foal, even one so bold as you, and I would rather you did not accompany me past that point."
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Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 11:51 am
Those milk-white eyes were intimidating, sightless though they were. Vox was about to take a pace back and bow his head before he remembered that the show of deference would go unseen. "...I am Vox, sir," he said quietly. "The Voice of the Night - I hail from the South. I can give you no reason to trust me save that I am sincere in my offer of help, and that I ask for nothing in return. I shall go with you as far as you might allow, sir. Have no fear: I am of the coast myself, and quite used to rocky shores."
He bit his lip then, a little unsure of how to go on. "...I...saw you flying," he admitted at length, "and thought you quite magnificent - it would be a travesty to see you injured now and do nothing to aid you."
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Posted: Fri Jan 26, 2007 5:12 pm
The little hint of uncertainty in the colt's voice as he had spoken of having looked on while he flew struck Altair hard. He did his best not to show it, hoping that the moment of hesitation that had caught him in the seconds following the admission would be mistaken for consideration of the earlier words rather than any form of shock. Magnificent, or indeed anything like it, was hardly a word to describe one such as him.
...But for some reason he could not bring himself to correct Vox. So seldom was he given praise of any kind that to brush aside the first sincere compliment he had received in months would be to say that he was not glad of it. Yet equally the Reya could not bring himself to thank the colt for his words, for however much he appreciated them on the inside, without the ability to judge the image of one Nequus in flight against another he could hardly believe the description to be accurate.
That wasn't to say that he could not express any gratitude at all to the young Nequus.
"If you will accompany me at least some of the way, rocky shores or no," he said at last, doubt overcome by the pain in his leg, "then I thank you, Voice of the Night."
And without another word he turned to face the east and set off, one painful step after the other.
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Posted: Tue Jan 30, 2007 6:57 am
Deeply relieved that his answers had sufficed, Vox headed along the beach ahead of the Reya and tried to comprehend his condition. How must it be to see nothing but darkness - or nothing at all? What did "nothing" look like? How had he managed for so long without sight? Did this happen often? Was he always alone? Why was there no one near to care for him? Did he even want to be cared for?
...What was his name?
"...Left, sir, toward my voice. Driftwood to the right."
The little Aeri knocked various stones out of the path as he walked, making sure that he did not leave any large hollows in the sand. His mysterious charge would not appreciate another fall, he felt sure, and he himself could not bear to cause one. The beach grew rockier not far ahead, though - how was he to assist the Reya in navigating there? He would just have to do his best, he supposed.
It was comforting to think that Father might be proud of him for trying.
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Posted: Mon Feb 05, 2007 2:30 pm
Silently he followed. He had not done this - follow the voice of another - in months. The little Shrila did not count, for her eyes hailed as danger things that held no fear for him, and she missed what was most important. He had not heard from her for weeks now, in any case. Treading carefully to the left, he was relieved to find that the colt had not been lying - the path was indeed clear, and the driftwood that allegedly lay to the right never even brushed the side of his hooves. ...That was not all. Even without the larger worries of sea-worn branches and jagged rock outcrops, the sand he crossed in Vox's wake was surprisingly smooth.
Where were the little stones that threw him into doubt every other minute? Where were the sudden, frequent pains of stepping onto a small, sharp shell, where were the stumbles that so often punctuated his walk?
For a moment Altair wondered if he was being led in the right direction after all. The path home was not like this - he ought to know. Tensing, he strained for sounds around him, scents of the sea and of the land. It wasn't long before a muffled noise reached his ears, almost as though something small and solid were being kicked across the sand. It came again.
"...Vox," he called slowly, muscles beginning to relax. It was a strange sensation indeed to be able to walk without fear, but he had not asked the young Nequus to provide such security. "Vox, you need not do that. I am more than used to it - please, do not go out of your way."
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