But I'm far more desperate than you think
I wonder what it's like to be the universe
Experiencing itself ironically
Ipomoea chases the great eagle, eyes tracking it as it rises into the sky. He wasn’t there to watch it take off, but he’s determined to see it fly for as long as he can, mottled legs rushing him across the forest floor ever closer to his target. A time or two he almost runs headlong into a tree, his only guidance around them coming in the form of the blue bird tugging him out of the way by his hair at the very last minute. He himself is too busy to watch where he’s going; sleep still fills his body and he fears looking away from the proud eagle will cause him to lose it from his sight forever.
But lose it he does, when he almost runs into not another tree, but a girl. Alorus nips at him just in time, bringing him to a screeching halt as soil and flower petals rain down around him. For a moment he is framed by them, dark and bright much like he is, a mottling of colors splashed across the canvas that is his body in a masterful pattern. His eyes blink once, twice, three times in quick succession, finding himself as completely entranced by her as she is by him. Her wings hold the majority of his attention—although he takes notice of her flowers and jewelry, they aren’t quite as important to him in this moment—a mixture of reverence and blatant jealousy mingling across his face. His own bespeckled wings flutter helplessly at his ankles, as though striving to act even half as powerful as an eagle’s.
“Your wings,” he whispers, his voice low and husky as he takes a ginger step closer, nostrils quivering as he extends the painted muzzle closer, as if to touch.
His mouth is opened to comment, to compare them to the great bird he had just witnessed, before it occurs to him that she may very well have no idea what he references. It promptly shuts, a shake of his head causing even more peach and rose colored petals to fall gently to the earth. Alorus, still making worried circles around his equine companion, catches one such delicate piece before it crashes to the earth, holding it firmly in his mouth as he continues his swooping pattern.
“They look like an eagle’s,” he finishes simply, drawing himself back in a half hearted attempt to appear respectful--but he does little to pull his attention away from those downy, striped feathers.
@
i didn't proofread this yet ahhh but i wanted to get something up for you! <3
I'll always have the underground
I'll build my road despite the cost
I'm not looking to be found
No, not at all
manip by rhiann
