[P] be who we are

[Samaira]

i got all i need,
all i need,
i'm flying

Spring is more beautiful with freedom; with flight. The temperatures on land are rising, steadily, slowly. The world is waking, birds singing, creatures stirring from their slumbers. On Irindor Samaira’s favorite time in the forest had been spring, and here in this world, her new home, it’s no different. She wakes each morning to the rising sun and the melody of birds and is grateful to be alive.

The pegasus drifts through the sky, the tips of her wings brushing against the low-lying, early morning clouds. “Come on Alaunus! We’re almost there,” her words float over her shoulder toward her bonded, as the young heron flies just behind her. ”The ocean won’t go anywhere if we take our time,” Alaunus replies, but Samaira can hear the amusement in his words. Oh, how Samaira loves the ocean. Ever since she set foot on its shores for the first time.

She doesn’t think that she’ll ever not love it.

It is wide and far and still and roaring and deep. It is beautiful, especially in the morning when the sun rises to the east and the soft first rays of light reflect off its surface. Her heart sighs in contentment just to think about it, and she beats her wings a little harder, a little faster. ”No stopping to smell the roses… got it,” her bonded remarks, and Samaira can’t help the laugh that bubbles past her lips.

At last they reach the sea, and Samaira looks at the horizon, where it stretches and stretches and stretches. She wants to touch it, to fly to that distant line and discover where it takes her. Someday, she consents, but not today. Whatever mysteries the world holds for her, she has many years to discover them. For now, she is happy to be here. To have purpose, and life.

As the pair circles slowly up in the sky, Samaira spots a dark shape on the sands below. At first she thinks of the kelpie she had met the first time she had gone to see the ocean, whose name he had not given to her. He was as much a mystery as the sea he called home. But the darkness of this shape is as unmistakable as the colors he wears upon his back. King of the Dusk Court, who looks as the twilight sky.

Samaira drops down to the beach, her eyes as wide and bright as the setting moon, and makes her way toward him. “Asterion,” she greets gently, as gently as the water that rushes up to embrace the sand, to kiss their hooves. Soon she is beside him, and her wings rest against her sides as she speaks. “If I recall, you never told me your position that day I first stepped foot in the court,” a smile turns up the corner of her lips as she glances at him curiously.

She remembers how they danced, and laughed, and she wonders if she would have done such things with him if she had known, then. “You should wear your title with pride, knowing how much you do for your people.” The earthen woman shifts a little in the sand and Alaunus, resting somewhere behind them, clears his throat. Samaira only smiles more and thinks, the day is new and full of promises.

"Speaking."

credits

@Asterion