[P] burning feathers

[Gaston]

I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine
and rage the likes of which you would not believe.

If I cannot satisfy one,

I will indulge the other.

He had traveled far and wide, done many a great thing, but it wasn't enough. The crawling, all-consuming compulsion to move on when it was clear he would gain no more from a particular place had driven him across many lands. It had driven him from his mother's gentle, protective hold long ago when he was barely more than a boy. He had left his birth land of rocky cliffs and tumultuous seas; Gaston left his dear mother behind, crowing of grand plans and promises to save her from the fate of a cruel marriage. Whatever it took, he would do it. He would make the entire world quake beneath his hooves and burn if he had to. He would make the angels praise his fame and bards would sing of his glory for centuries to come.

Yet, all of what he had done had never been enough until he met her. 

Before he knew it, Gaston's whole world shifted on its axis. No longer was he consumed by the desire to chase fame and glory. Now he wanted roots, and most important of all, he had wanted them with her. With the daughter of the moon at his side, Gaston envisioned the very future his mother had hoped for him: the love he deserved and a happy family. Yet, burdened by their own pasts and mistakes, she fled from him. An elusive creature, his mistress was, but Gaston was not about to abandon the hunt when he knew she returned his affections. He had foolishly tried to ignore their bond once and had paid a hefty price. He had nearly lost her and he was not about to repeat that particular mistake. She was undeniably close. They were in the same realm, that much was certain. Now he had to find her, but in the meantime, he very much needed to find another use of his talents.

For that reason, Gaston found himself in Denocte's capital. Red silk swished along Gaston's legs as the pegasus walked the streets, getting a feeling for the capital during his twilight walk. A realm that seemed to house all sorts of citizens who all had varying stories to be told. Nobles from far-flung places, rogues who hide in shadows, humble merchants who were as bland as their wares. Unlike the other kingdoms, it seemed there was no correct mold for the souls who called the night court home, which endeared to Gaston's own aesthetic in more ways than one. Perhaps he'd find his place in this new realm, after all. He would certainly need something to occupy his time once he had found Io and convinced her to stay at his side.

tagged: @Israfel
notes: none
"Speech." Thoughts.

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