Ipomoea was in love.
He has spent all day jogging to get here (save a few detours to admire the red poppies and other flora), and it certainly did not disappointed. No, the stone citadel had the opposite effect, bringing him to his knees at the first glance and metaphorically blowing him away at the second. Brick and mortar were stacked in rows upon rows upon rows, climbing high enough into the sky that he had to crane his head backwards to eye its magnificent spires. And the ivy—something many may have considered a defect, an encroachment of the wilderness into places it no longer belonged—he found it made the landmark all the more beautiful. The clash of earth upon stone, the living crawling upon the nonliving thrilled him, tickling his mind and pleasing his eye. It was beautiful.
Alorus too had seemed to be impressed, disappearing in a flurry of wings around the temple. The painted stallion watched him go for a minute, and for a brief moment found himself envious of the aves. He had not been so blessed to have been born with wings.
Pushing such distasteful thoughts to the back of his mind, he ventured slowly forward, craning his neck low to where the temple met the earth in inspection. Every muscle was bunched in anticipation, the ultimate cautioned paid as he breathed in the sweet aroma of the flowers growing upon the ivy vines, their deep throats and radial centers inherently familiar to him. Something stirred in his memory of soft voices singing over him, of flowers placed upon his brow, droplets of water sprinkled overtop him from some unseen source. The images and sensations flit across his mind for only a moment before dissolving back into the depths, leaving him with an unsettled feeling formed deep in his gut. With a snort, he pulled back from the stone wall.
His mind was already thrumming, his heart pounding up in his throat as he moved alongside the wall, skin occasionally brushing up against it as he went. His eyes were torn between the many things he had to look at--the delicate way each stone seemed stacked upon each other, the intricacy of the tangled vines woven together, the spires risen far above him; even the distant horizon beckoned him to sit and watch the treetops wave gently in the wind, hidden in the comfort of the great structure's shadow. But for now he kept moving, walking the border and counting his paces, his ears peeled for any indication he wasn't alone. For if there was an entrance somewhere he would find it; there was no way he would leave here (if he ever did) without first seeing the sanctuary's interior.
@kasil here we are!! I’m so excited ouo
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