The pale fullness of the moon cast a serene light over the Illuster Meadow, dipping the world in silver and gentling the sharp planes of the two stallions’ faces. Walking side by side, as they had since leaving the stone walls of Dusk, the pair had traversed rivers and roads to reach the festival that Cynix had spoke of.
The festival that was nowhere to be found.
Incredulous, Raglan noted the trampled grasses and flowers of the meadow, the half crowns woven of blossoms, and the faint scent of bodies that lingered about the meadow. Slowing to a stop, the Crow looked about, hoping that the festival had just moved to a different location, but knowing that they must have arrived too late. With a disappointed exhale, the bloody bay scuffed a single opal hoof against the soft earth and cast a glance at Cynix. It wasn’t that they had missed the festival, it was that his friend had seemed so excited to get away for awhile, and now Raglan couldn’t hope to mimic the sort of company that was provided by dozens of strangers and gallons of wine.
Though it wouldn’t hurt to try.
Perking his ears forward and halfway opening his wings in excitement, the spindly stag performed a rather stunted read and tapped his hooves upon the ground in a quick jig-like pattern. “So!” He cried, grin splitting his features, “It seems we have taken the term ‘fashionably late’ a bit too seriously.” Punctuating his statement with a wry twist of his lips and a wink, Raglan ventured on, “But do not fret, Little Sinner, there are still adventures to be had! I’m sure there are some stragglers about here somewhere.”
@Cynix heyooo everyone is invited~
