Damascus soon came to realise that while his search had taken him to even the furthest corners of the continent he was yet to check even his own back yard for signs or signals of any divinity, be it the relic or just some sort of clue to it's presence. It occurred to the child that perhaps he should have started with the lands closer to home (rather than starting so far away). Perhaps it was that too much travel had turned him sour and jaded, thus wished not to take flight on a day like today but instead slowly romp the fields of Denocte. Who he might stumble upon or what was of little concern, and truly he wasn't even looking for the relic as he bashfully baltered over the terrain with gangly legs absently kicking a the tufts of grass.
"Stop that" Dohv came to bellow telepathically, his teeth soon to dig into a root he'd dug up during the night to eat. "Yew shud be out trainin', not goofin' about the fields kickin' at th'grass!" "But Dohv, Bored I am!" Damascus wailed, stomping his hoof with great force into the earth below. Training? how? with who? Besides he wanted to find the relic... or rather, he did but he couldn't be bothered looking as hard as he ought to.
And it only hurts when I'm breathing
My heart only breaks when it's beating
For being a part of the night court the world wasn't as dark as she had expected. In fact, her eyes and body were beginning to adjust to the darkness. She wasn't sure if the light would begin to become a hindrance to her, but at least she wasn't as skittish in the dark all of the time. Still. She was supposed to be finding something. A relic of sorts and she had yet to find it in the night court or the mirror lake that was within the land of the night. So, this time she had moved towards the fields. It was probably best for her to get to know these lands better anyways.
She was surprised that the fields were so open, yet so filled with bumps and valleys. Her eyes lingered across the lands before picking out the darker shape against the terrain. Wait. Was that wings? Again?! She found more creatures with wings, just like she had found in Helovia. Her heart dropped to her stomach, voice caught in her throat as her eyes widened. God, it would take her ages to get used to those who had wings. Ages. This was not going to work out that well for her in the long run, though, if she couldn't quite get accustomed to these beings as well.
It was only as she inched in closer to the gangly figure that she realized just how much he would end up looming over her frame - especially if he extended his wings to their full breadth. But his speech... it was different. Broken. Awkward. She could process it, yes, but it definitely wasn't as succinct as she was used to. She opened her maw to start to speak to the stag - finally having gathered her wits - only to be stopped by the sudden stamping of a hoof. Aye, she was feet away but it still surprised her. The wits that had been gathered were suddenly scattered across the open area and she could feel her heart beginning to race again.
Any words that she was about to say... well they were gone. They weren't stuck in her throat or on the tip of her tongue. No. They had flown the coop entirely. Well isn't this just lovely?
He wondered what his life would be like if he had taken the chance to be a father to his children, if he had not run from the promise of pain and learned to live with the agony of his sisters' sacrifice. Would he love them instead of looking at them as if they were strangers? Would he find joy in their voices and the sound of their heart beat? Would he fall asleep with them at his side, leeching his warmth and comfort like cherubic parasites that were all too welcome?
He did not know, and he would never know, and that was the source of the wretchedness that cascaded from his soul and settled so heavily upon his shoulders.
Shaking his horned head to clear his thoughts, Camdis once more concentrated upon his search for what he did not know. Already, he had visited the castle, the wondrous fortress that whispered words of safety and acceptance. No one had to know who he was here, he could create a new identity, a whole new life away from the sins and failures that marked his heart so viciously.
But he could not bring himself to lie about his life, about the curse that he existed as, just as he could not wash the bloody red from his skin, no matter how hard he tried.
Jerking his silvery gaze up from where it had been glued to the grasses beneath his hooves, Camdis found that he was only meters away from a pair of equines - one male, one female; one winged, the other unadorned; night and day were their colorings and Camdis found that he could not look away as his curiosity reared it's ugly head.
Yet, he would not call out, not make the first move, as that often ended in others trying to befriend him. And that was not something that he deserved. So, the bay stag slowed to a stop, effectively within conversational range, but holding back his words with stone in his expression.
