WE ARE DIVINE
Somewhere Najjad flies above him, flying lazy circles above the cloud cover as the gryphon waits for something he's almost forgotten to remember. Veer can feel the way Najjid's impatience rises as the moon sinks and his blackened skin shivers with predatory violence.
But the sands and the line of vegetation are as silent as their wings tonight. Both of them swallow the recklessness crawling like disease in the places of them deeper than muscle and deeper than bone.
Tonight is not the night.
So they drift down like loose feathers on the spring breeze, circling downward in patterns that make sense only to the two of them. The sand swallows up any sounds made by hoof and claw or feather and fur. They are careful to land between the rays of silver-light along the shore of the oasis and stick only to the dark places between where they are silken shadows that whisper soft enough to be made of dreaming.
When the stallion and the beast wade into the water the coo of liquid ripples is the first thing that might be classified as real sound to break up the desert night-song. Together they duck under the surface and drag their wings across the sand and grit at the bottom of the warm water. The night swallows up the strange blackness of the water that spreads out from their bodies when they surface.
And suddenly the night is not silver but gold. The rays of moonlight reflect off the brightness of their feathers and off of the wickedly sharp beak of Najjad. Everything looks brighter when they smile at each other-- pegasus to gryphon, monster to beast.
Tomorrow They promise each other as they brush wing to wing when they collapse upon the sand, look up to the stars and wait for the dawn.
Tomorrow there will be blood.
a breath of soot into these lungs
@Toulouse
