she wasn't looking for a knight
she was looking for a sword
The rain seems never-ending, and so does her duty.
Her wings have ached for nearly a day now, and yet she keeps powering through the storm despite soaked feathers and chilled bones, her pale eyes constantly scanning the lands beneath her and her ears eternally positioned to catch any whisper of sound. So long as the rain persists, so will she in her duty -- searching out any citizen who might need help seeking shelter from the storm, or those who might be caught unawares by the dangers such amounts of water could pose.
For a moment, she rests upon the Hospital’s vast veranda, sheltered briefly from the storm, and her mind turns towards the child she had so carefully just delivered to the healers -- trapped beneath a mudslide that had caught it unawares, the foal had been lucky to survive with bruises and a broken leg. Her own, near-albino coat was filthy with mud and streaked with rain-water, but yet -- she had no time to preen, no time for vanity.
She launches herself into the air once more, barely faltering despite the exhaustion that seeks to claim her, and sets her course for the Dusk Court and the relative safety there. Upon a parapet stands a darkened, rain-drenched figure, and it is he who she lands before with a sharp jerk of her head.
Her answering smile is just as grim as his.
“A mudslide towards the North of the Cliffs, sir. One fatality… one wounded. I flew the child to the Hospital for recovery of a broken leg. I would suspect… when the storm is over, a search should be made for any remaining family.”
Her voice hushes with the suggestion, with the sorrow of an orphan child who had witnessed their parent’s demise far too early -- and still, while the storm had eased, it had not yet abetted. The promise of grain and a warm fire was enticing, sure -- but there was still much to do, and many still unaccounted for.
Her wings have ached for nearly a day now, and yet she keeps powering through the storm despite soaked feathers and chilled bones, her pale eyes constantly scanning the lands beneath her and her ears eternally positioned to catch any whisper of sound. So long as the rain persists, so will she in her duty -- searching out any citizen who might need help seeking shelter from the storm, or those who might be caught unawares by the dangers such amounts of water could pose.
For a moment, she rests upon the Hospital’s vast veranda, sheltered briefly from the storm, and her mind turns towards the child she had so carefully just delivered to the healers -- trapped beneath a mudslide that had caught it unawares, the foal had been lucky to survive with bruises and a broken leg. Her own, near-albino coat was filthy with mud and streaked with rain-water, but yet -- she had no time to preen, no time for vanity.
She launches herself into the air once more, barely faltering despite the exhaustion that seeks to claim her, and sets her course for the Dusk Court and the relative safety there. Upon a parapet stands a darkened, rain-drenched figure, and it is he who she lands before with a sharp jerk of her head.
Her answering smile is just as grim as his.
“A mudslide towards the North of the Cliffs, sir. One fatality… one wounded. I flew the child to the Hospital for recovery of a broken leg. I would suspect… when the storm is over, a search should be made for any remaining family.”
Her voice hushes with the suggestion, with the sorrow of an orphan child who had witnessed their parent’s demise far too early -- and still, while the storm had eased, it had not yet abetted. The promise of grain and a warm fire was enticing, sure -- but there was still much to do, and many still unaccounted for.
