[AW] Before the dark hour of reason grows

[Miette]

Miette A frivolous heart beats beneath the pasty padding of the baby’s breast. Hooves delight, clattering raucously along cobble corridors with little regard for those mulling amid tall, wandering shadows therein; for sunlight gleams brightly out yonder and this vigorous game is to find each rare warm, golden shaft where it penetrated the queer stone ceiling above. The castle has become a playground, less a formal abode for the various royalty mentioned constantly by Mama and Papa and as they spend ever more time swanning about the marvellously chiselled interior, the foal seldom lets an opportunity to fantasise slip by. The sound of headlong galloping resonates wildly off the towering walls to either side of her puny, colourful frame. The mind is abuzz, ringing to the rhythm of a multitude of hooves - an army two hundred strong -  and they crash along behind her, hot breath and spittle bearing down ominously. A puddle of light lies seconds ahead, and Miette squares, strains, all focus there upon it… And they almost take her! Skin ignites as she slides beneath the protection of sun-warmth, and at once those chasing, begin to flounder about like stricken, stranded fish. The girl giggles, jubilance bubbling from the depth of a well-contented belly, and knees spring gleefully, excitedly, for she knows that their night-needing eyes cannot find her. But she cannot hide forever! Rid of that overwhelming flood of anticipation once more (the sound, shrill and young, hangs in the musty, dank air), icy eyes alight and travel the course next to be taken.  This time, the passage splits, branches and turns thereafter two opposite ways; Miette studies first one, and then the other but she can find no hint along either to suggest that the next refuge lies beyond. The silence is deafening - they, the troops, are plotting and scheming. One flint breaches the boundary between safety and not, the step clicks loudly and they step behind. Instantly she recoils, giddy as nervousness gnaws down on her courage. “I got thith…” She whispers, and draws a deep breath; then she springs from the sunlight and drives left beneath a maddening chaos of noise.   Any are welcome :)

[Rostislav]

Of course the last time I saw her she was even smaller than she is now. She'd run headlong for me, much to her parents' dismay. The headstrong, innocent nature of any child could be a daunting challenge for new parents. But they seemed to do well, and the foal has clearly flourished. The winged, splashed child dances around in front of me, very clearly entranced in her own visions. The imagination of a child is something that can simply not be reckoned with it. It has no boundaries, no limitations. Sure, that's the nature of imagination -- but with children it's taking that creativity and strapping a jet pack to it. EVERYTHING is possible.

I stand there, silent, watching her with an easy, casual smile. Damaris sits next to me, watching the filly as well. She dances around on the cobblestones, small hooves clattering. My own form is shadowed by the overhang of a nearby building. I step out into the sunlight, slowly interrupting the little girl's play. I hope that she doesn't hold it against me. Adults aren't nearly as interesting as the worlds the mind creates. Damaris lets me approach first, not wanting to scare off the foal. I tilt my head and nicker a greeting. "Greetings, Miette." Darkened ears perk forward and my silver eyes sparkle.

WC: 219
Tag: @Miette
Rosti thoughts | "Rosti speech" | Damaris mindspeak

Rostislav

more than a drunken fool

x - x

[Aislinn]

A I S L I N N "TO THE STARS THAT LISTEN" Sunlight drifted in through the wide open passageways, the warm summer air like a welcome blanket; bringing laughter and happiness that spread like wildfire among the court denizens. The dark woman drifted through the Night palace, ever-wandering and aimless in her destination. Her hooves clicked softly as she walked, her mind elsewhere as she came upon an open aclove amongst the labyrinth of hallways. Icy-sapphire orbs blinked back to reality as she watched a youngling — gorgeous with their wings and splashed colors — play and dance to their own visions. Almost instantly, as she smiled, Aislinn was transported back to her first year. Back home when she was a youngling herself, back on the road with the warrior Rahilah. But most important of all, her memories bubbled over with her mother dame. Snow-white and winged herself, Luna of the Stars would watch her as she played to her own imagination and perils, heroics and daring battles... just like she now watched the colorful youth now. She gulped down her grief and anguish, swallowed her nostalgia, and instead sighed at the reminder that her mother had taught her one of the most important lessons of all: to see the good in everything, and to dream. So she stood at the edge of the open-mouthed aclove, a soft grin on her velvet lips. The foal reminded her so much of herself that at first she did not notice another presence in the room. His voice broke the reverie, the stormsinger's orbs snapping to his attention. She had seen him before in passing, and — oh. Yes, she had heard stories of him, she knew for certain now. The warrior-brute and his hellhound; she watched them both in silent caution, dipping her crown in respect. Her attention turned to the foal now, a warm grin reaching up into her blue gaze. "Hello, my dear." OOC: @miette @rostislav

LOVE, SPACE