MORPHO Summer was growing far too warm for Morpho’s liking, and the butterfly mare was due for relief. Sweat glistened on her black hide, dampening it to darker hues of ink and gold. She fled to the sea cliffs, longing to feel the wind on her face and smell the salt of the ocean as it crashed below her. Even in the short time she’d been at Novus, the Sage had grown to appreciate the beauty of the Dusk Court… and nothing was more beautiful to her than walking along the edges of Praistigia Cliffs, where she could leave reality behind and become one with nature. Here, the demons that plagued her seemed to flee, and she was left in the peace of the quiet. As she walked along the rocky cliffs, she closed her eyes to really feel the world around her – to hear the birds sing louder, to smell the damp sea spray, to taste the faintest hints of pollen on the wind. This was her place to stop and reset, and she found herself a bit surprised (if not disappointed) to hear another approach. Turning toward the sound, her meadow green eyes opened to find the flower girl, and while her body had once been tensed to flee from the intrusion, it relaxed and she offered Florentine a hint of a smile. She didn’t know the mare, but had heard of the Emissary of Terrestella, and nodding to the girl, Morpho offered a kindly sort of greeting. “It’s a good morning to follow the sea.” She stopped, and turned back to the cerulean blue water with a whimsical sort of sigh. For the briefest of moments, there is an overwhelming urge that comes over the mare to dive into the briny deeps, to swim in the great expanse of blue. Turning from the urge, she addresses the honey colored Pegasus again. “I don’t know that we’ve met. Morpho.” |
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