and, when the friendly sunshine smil'd,
and she would mark the opening skies,
i saw no Heaven—but in her eyes
and she would mark the opening skies,
i saw no Heaven—but in her eyes
They are racing along the beach with the sunset at their left and the wind in their face, kicking up dampened sand and, for the time being, forgetting the heaviness in the world. Their laughter is a soundtrack to the dying light, wild and free, cascading from their lips like a waterfall. And the waves crashing against the shore are their heartbeats, budding and blooming and singing, soaring toward the skies.
Eulalie turns to look behind her and sees Ipomoea coming up beside her, pressing closer and closer, until they are side-by-side. The ivory and gold woman pushes herself, stretching her legs farther, faster, and the joy of Ipomoea’s laugh fills her heart. To know that, at least for this moment he isn’t focusing on the dark things hiding in their home, means that she is doing some good. When she glances above them she can see Tabbris gliding far overhead on his large eagle wings, almost effortlessly, and precious Odet following along with them.
The shapes in the distance are no longer dark shadows on the horizon, but great stones reaching high, high into the air. They are looming and black and look sharp, as though they could simply rip through the sky with one touch. When they finally stop running, Eulalie’s chest heaves as it tries to calm her racing heart and fill her lungs with breath.
She catches on his words as they fumble, slightly, and she wonders what he was going to say. “I haven’t run like that since I left Solterra. It’s much more pleasant when you aren’t doing it for your life, but doing it for enjoyment,” and Eulalie says like she is talking about the weather, her dark brown eyes too busy looking at the place where the stones meet at the top, where Odet as perched and Tabbris soars over a few times before lazily circling down toward the ground. She can tell he is still sour about her being out as he looks sharply toward the distant shadow of the forest to the right.
Her gaze slips to Ipomoea again as he circles the stone formation, tipping his head back to look all the way to the top. “I wonder where they came from,” she says idly, walking closer now that her breathing has eased. She pauses just before one of the spaces between two of them and peers within. “It’s quite strange, isn’t it?” They appear to almost lean into one another, their peaks intertwining like fingers. She wonders how far into the ground they must go to be stable in the sand like this.
“Tabbris why don’t you take a break from being the big bad bodyguard and come look at this,” Eulalie says, backing out from the rocks and looking toward her bonded. Tabbris flicks his feline tail, but she can see his ears twisting back toward her. She thinks he might ignore her, until he finally turns away from the dark twisting trees on the horizon and toward the rocks. “Fine, but if we get eaten this is all your fault,” he says, but she can see the shine in his eyes that says he’s not mad at her any longer.
Under normal circumstances she might have to fight the urge to laugh, but what he says strikes a sour note within her. Her eyes trace the far-off treeline for only a second before she’s facing Ipomoea with a curious look in her eyes and a smile on her face. “What do you make of them? Perhaps the are the remnants of some strange magic? Or maybe,” and her voice gets conspiratorial low, her eyes widening, “the hand of a gigantic beast?”
“A dragon? Maybe the rest of its body is just… waiting to be unearthed from this very spot.”
Eulalie turns to look behind her and sees Ipomoea coming up beside her, pressing closer and closer, until they are side-by-side. The ivory and gold woman pushes herself, stretching her legs farther, faster, and the joy of Ipomoea’s laugh fills her heart. To know that, at least for this moment he isn’t focusing on the dark things hiding in their home, means that she is doing some good. When she glances above them she can see Tabbris gliding far overhead on his large eagle wings, almost effortlessly, and precious Odet following along with them.
The shapes in the distance are no longer dark shadows on the horizon, but great stones reaching high, high into the air. They are looming and black and look sharp, as though they could simply rip through the sky with one touch. When they finally stop running, Eulalie’s chest heaves as it tries to calm her racing heart and fill her lungs with breath.
She catches on his words as they fumble, slightly, and she wonders what he was going to say. “I haven’t run like that since I left Solterra. It’s much more pleasant when you aren’t doing it for your life, but doing it for enjoyment,” and Eulalie says like she is talking about the weather, her dark brown eyes too busy looking at the place where the stones meet at the top, where Odet as perched and Tabbris soars over a few times before lazily circling down toward the ground. She can tell he is still sour about her being out as he looks sharply toward the distant shadow of the forest to the right.
Her gaze slips to Ipomoea again as he circles the stone formation, tipping his head back to look all the way to the top. “I wonder where they came from,” she says idly, walking closer now that her breathing has eased. She pauses just before one of the spaces between two of them and peers within. “It’s quite strange, isn’t it?” They appear to almost lean into one another, their peaks intertwining like fingers. She wonders how far into the ground they must go to be stable in the sand like this.
“Tabbris why don’t you take a break from being the big bad bodyguard and come look at this,” Eulalie says, backing out from the rocks and looking toward her bonded. Tabbris flicks his feline tail, but she can see his ears twisting back toward her. She thinks he might ignore her, until he finally turns away from the dark twisting trees on the horizon and toward the rocks. “Fine, but if we get eaten this is all your fault,” he says, but she can see the shine in his eyes that says he’s not mad at her any longer.
Under normal circumstances she might have to fight the urge to laugh, but what he says strikes a sour note within her. Her eyes trace the far-off treeline for only a second before she’s facing Ipomoea with a curious look in her eyes and a smile on her face. “What do you make of them? Perhaps the are the remnants of some strange magic? Or maybe,” and her voice gets conspiratorial low, her eyes widening, “the hand of a gigantic beast?”
“A dragon? Maybe the rest of its body is just… waiting to be unearthed from this very spot.”
@Ipomoea <3
