Aim, throw your best shot right at me 'Cause pain, I can take it easily Did you really think I'd fall to my knees Just to pray for some sweet simplicity? The grand peaks that lay at the center of Novus are a grand sight to behold in the early morning hours of Delumine. They are distant, but their silhouettes against the rising sun are brilliant nonetheless. Ulric always looks upon them with forlorn eyes of gold; if he were able, he would rise into the skies fulfill his thirst for an adventure in those splendiferous mountaintops, and be back in time for his routine nightly patrols… But alas, it simply isn’t possible, at least not for Ulric. He had argued with himself on going at all, torn on staying behind to prepare their newest members for patrols of their own, confident that should he take a short leave, something terrible would surely happen. Even Ulric himself wasn’t sure what had caused him to change his mind in the end and say to hell with it, but here he was, ascending the highest peak in the range like the fool he was. It was breathtaking, really, the sights that such a height had to offer through the clouds that formed a mostly solid ring around the peak. To the east, the heavy forests dissipated and the soft ground turned to sharp, jagged crags. To the west, mighty pines stood tall, even though they looked like nothing more than specs against his vision from this elevation. Above him, the sky stretched on endlessly in a sheet of unscathed baby blue. Below him… well, he preferred not to look that way, because as proud and otherwise fearless as the Warden might seem to some, he had never been comfortable with heights for good reason. Yet here he was, ascending the tallest peak in Novus, alone with the earth falling away beneath his weight with every step. Good job, Ulric. So focused as he was on placing his feet exactly where they needed to be lest he fall, the roan was nothing short of clueless as gilded Florentine crept up behind him, ears pressed against his nape to block out the worst of the relentless wind. When she finally goes for her window of opportunity and leaps forward, Ulric is a feline suddenly sprayed by an icy cold blast of water. He leaps forward as frantic feet clamber for purchase, muscles tense beneath the strain of fear. The roan prepares to fight, even though this is the last place he ever wishes to do such a thing, only… Only this is no attacker at all, but sweet, sweet Florentine, who seems all too impressed with herself. Swallowing back the heart which had leapt into his throat, Ulric stands for a good moment as his soul attempts to realign itself within his body before he finally finds the strength to move again. Her playful remark is nearly lost to the winds, but finally it registered in the Warden’s mind as he slowly continued up the mountain after her, both wings are now held tightly against his sides. “It might be in my best interest to avoid you at the top of monstrously high mountains,” he quipped, a soft, short laugh filled with nerves following his words. There was no malice towards Florentine, he wasn’t sure there could ever be, even if she had nearly driven his heart to give out. With a deep breath Ulric sought to chase the feeling of imminent death away, focusing instead on Florentine’s now comforting presence as well as her closeness. “But, no, I haven’t – I promise. I’ve missed you, Flora, and I’ve been meaning to drag Somnus out of the citadel for a while and come find you, but…” He gave a shrug of tense shoulders. “I don’t really have an excuse. It's been far too long." Her following question is met with a shake of his dark head, but before he can even think to say anything, the ribbon threaded ever so carefully into his mane is tugged away by the Dusk lady. Worry is wrought across the Warden’s face as he watches her turn and head swiftly, fearlessly back down the steep mountainside. You see, the ribbon Ulric wears in his mane is no simple fashion accessory, but a gift bestowed to him by his sister on the night of his abandonment. It’s his most cherished possession, and to think of it being lost to the brutal winds or destroyed in even the smallest ways hurts him in a way he can’t really explain. But this was Florentine, and other than Somnus, there is no other that Ulric trusts more. With great care he turns around, front legs splayed out in front of him as the rock gives against his weight before he starts after her. Every step he takes brings him a little bit closer to Florentine, and the further they descend, the more confident Ulric becomes in his balance and picks up a little more speed. Pursed lips turn upwards into the beginnings of a grin, and then he’s laughing, determined to chase Florentine down and retrieve her stolen prize. “Gotcha now!” His voice carries against the wind now at their backs, pushing him ever onward. Soon, he finds himself nearly even with her, and after a few failed attempt to snatch the ribbon back within his teeth, the Warden pushed his shoulder into Florentine’s own in what was meant to be a playful shove, to show her that she’d been caught and there was nowhere else for her to flee. @ |
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