Raglan
may the bridges i burn light the way
The sinking sun’s light cut through the space between cloud and sea in a blade of golden fire.
The horizontal pillar sliced through waves far below and stretched shadows into gnarled specters. Raglan knew that even has the blinding disc sunk beneath the oceans, it would burn, burn, burn, protesting with an endless and burning fury against that temporary death. He wondered how long the damnable sun would keep it up, for how many more millennia would it burn and rage and fight until it was reborn each dawn.
Maybe forever, maybe this was the last time.
Awash in golden light, the Crow soared over white capped waves and jagged rocks, pale eyes scanning the cliff walls for what he didn’t know. Wind buffeted against feathers and flesh, mane and tail, pulling the latter out in a cream colored banner. The winter swells were something that Raglan had never taken the time to witness — the lad had never been enthusiastic about gallivanting about in cold weather — but, he felt a distinct sensation of awe as he watched monstrous wave after monstrous wave crash, roar, tumble into and over one another.
He wondered if Icarus truly fell or if the boy had only been mesmerized by the chaotic rhythm of Lady Ocean.
He wondered if Icarus needed company.
Then, a flash of gold, solid and real, caught the pegasus’ attention. Tilting his wings, Raglan found himself gliding toward the burnished speck until it came into focus as a mare — a perfect palomino with a glistening coat and an expression of near-rapture on her face. He couldn’t help but smile a bit in response, and decided that some company could only add to the brilliance of a sunset. Spiraling downward, the mahogany stag came gently to the earth and sighed as his body adjusted to the sensation of gravity anchoring pale hooves to soil.
Moving so that he stood by the stranger’s side, Raglan offered a nod before letting his gaze drift back out to sea, “Careful that the wind doesn’t snatch you up and toss you down, I hear Lady Ocean feasts on pretty maidens when she is upset.”
The horizontal pillar sliced through waves far below and stretched shadows into gnarled specters. Raglan knew that even has the blinding disc sunk beneath the oceans, it would burn, burn, burn, protesting with an endless and burning fury against that temporary death. He wondered how long the damnable sun would keep it up, for how many more millennia would it burn and rage and fight until it was reborn each dawn.
Maybe forever, maybe this was the last time.
Awash in golden light, the Crow soared over white capped waves and jagged rocks, pale eyes scanning the cliff walls for what he didn’t know. Wind buffeted against feathers and flesh, mane and tail, pulling the latter out in a cream colored banner. The winter swells were something that Raglan had never taken the time to witness — the lad had never been enthusiastic about gallivanting about in cold weather — but, he felt a distinct sensation of awe as he watched monstrous wave after monstrous wave crash, roar, tumble into and over one another.
He wondered if Icarus truly fell or if the boy had only been mesmerized by the chaotic rhythm of Lady Ocean.
He wondered if Icarus needed company.
Then, a flash of gold, solid and real, caught the pegasus’ attention. Tilting his wings, Raglan found himself gliding toward the burnished speck until it came into focus as a mare — a perfect palomino with a glistening coat and an expression of near-rapture on her face. He couldn’t help but smile a bit in response, and decided that some company could only add to the brilliance of a sunset. Spiraling downward, the mahogany stag came gently to the earth and sighed as his body adjusted to the sensation of gravity anchoring pale hooves to soil.
Moving so that he stood by the stranger’s side, Raglan offered a nod before letting his gaze drift back out to sea, “Careful that the wind doesn’t snatch you up and toss you down, I hear Lady Ocean feasts on pretty maidens when she is upset.”
"Talk"
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