[P] dusk

[Florestan]

the drowned prince Dusk threw its purple mantle over the sea, casting long shadows beneath it. How calming it was, the perpetual push and pull of the waves—it reminded him of home, or at least, where he had been born. The brine swirled around his ankles, a welcome contrast to the hot summer air that pressed heavily against his skin despite the maritime breeze. Florestan exhaled softly, watching sea-birds play above the horizon. It had been several weeks since his hooves had landed on his strange soil; he couldn't say that he enjoyed every moment of it, but this place wasn't too bad as far as strange places go. At least there were flowers, and the sea, and golden nymphs offering salves for sunburnt noses. A little smile curled on his pink lips when he thought of the lavender girl—she was one of his very first friends, Novus or elsewhere. He pressed on deeper into the waves, feeling the coolness of the water enveloping his belly, his chest. Florestan did few things well, but one thing he could do was swim. A childhood spent along the sea's edge had made him effectively amphibious, although he couldn't claim the ability of breathing underwater (yet). His pale hair swirled in the water as he began to paddle, head tilted upwards above the waves and a too-big grin playing on his youthful face. A curious gull swooped down to investigate the strange swimming boy and he laughed, wondering if the bird had ever seen a horse in the water. The last rays of daylight played in the sky above him, causing purples and oranges and red to play in the sky above him. For the first time in a long while, the rain boy realized that he felt at ease with both himself and the world and that perhaps life wasn't so cruel after all.