galileo
—
sober thoughts in drowning minds
Parties embodied the things he hated most about his fellow equines. The frivolous frills of the decorations that lined the excessively large halls, the masks everyone hid behind (both figuratively and literally), and the cajoling of kings and queens. It was disgusting, that's what it was. Maybe once he would have tolerated it all, but now, he looked straight through it like a sheet of glass.
When he had seen the invite to attend this so-called festival, he had cast the invitation and party out of his mind with a bellowing laugh. Gone were the days where he would bow to those who had not earned the right to be bowed to. And so that was that, his mind was made up, his legs returned him home to his beloved, protective canyons. But there was something, something he couldn't quite shake. Something about who he was in his very soul that murmured in his ears.
Adonai. Adonai. Adonai.
The name resounded in his head, agonizingly so. The longing to serve once again never left a warrior, no -- it coursed in their blood till the day they took their very last breath.
He had paced, backwards and forwards, running over the decision in his head. Fighting was all he had, all he had ever had. But it had been so long... would he be fierce enough? Or would they laugh at him shouting old man! You are too old for these silly tricks!
With a low rumble, more for his own acknowledgement then that of Adonai, he spoke to the sun. "Alright, king. I shall be your champion."
And so he had left, trekking to the Solterran city in search of this party.
The hustle and bustle of the city was unforgiving to the claustrophobic stallion, and he found himself constantly on edge as he tried to move through the crowds. Such a celebration he had seen many times in his life, as royals had come and gone like the ebb and flow of the tide. They were always so... disposable. He longed to see a ruler who belonged to the throne, whose place was at the top of the food chain. Syrilth of course came to mind. A queen of true warrior disposition, and someone who had had Galileo's respect for every day since.
A wooden sign pointed him in the right direction, and he found himself among knights of all shapes and sizes. It was strange to be among his own again, and he shifted awkwardly from one hoof to another at the fringe of the mob. Awaiting his turn to enter the ring, Galileo prepared himself like he always did before any battle -- by shutting himself off from the world.
Galileo may enter the ring!
The herald announced his coming, and the world went silent around him. Tunnel vision to the entrance allowed him to focus on only the task in hand: to win, and prove himself to this sun-kissed king.
-
@Saoirse @Adonai (an entrance post!)
When he had seen the invite to attend this so-called festival, he had cast the invitation and party out of his mind with a bellowing laugh. Gone were the days where he would bow to those who had not earned the right to be bowed to. And so that was that, his mind was made up, his legs returned him home to his beloved, protective canyons. But there was something, something he couldn't quite shake. Something about who he was in his very soul that murmured in his ears.
Adonai. Adonai. Adonai.
The name resounded in his head, agonizingly so. The longing to serve once again never left a warrior, no -- it coursed in their blood till the day they took their very last breath.
He had paced, backwards and forwards, running over the decision in his head. Fighting was all he had, all he had ever had. But it had been so long... would he be fierce enough? Or would they laugh at him shouting old man! You are too old for these silly tricks!
With a low rumble, more for his own acknowledgement then that of Adonai, he spoke to the sun. "Alright, king. I shall be your champion."
And so he had left, trekking to the Solterran city in search of this party.
The hustle and bustle of the city was unforgiving to the claustrophobic stallion, and he found himself constantly on edge as he tried to move through the crowds. Such a celebration he had seen many times in his life, as royals had come and gone like the ebb and flow of the tide. They were always so... disposable. He longed to see a ruler who belonged to the throne, whose place was at the top of the food chain. Syrilth of course came to mind. A queen of true warrior disposition, and someone who had had Galileo's respect for every day since.
A wooden sign pointed him in the right direction, and he found himself among knights of all shapes and sizes. It was strange to be among his own again, and he shifted awkwardly from one hoof to another at the fringe of the mob. Awaiting his turn to enter the ring, Galileo prepared himself like he always did before any battle -- by shutting himself off from the world.
Galileo may enter the ring!
The herald announced his coming, and the world went silent around him. Tunnel vision to the entrance allowed him to focus on only the task in hand: to win, and prove himself to this sun-kissed king.
-
@Saoirse @
@Galileo speaks
![[Image: ddjamb1-122f9879-334b-49d3-9bc8-46d9c2fb...TM43jI0AC0]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/976c7a49-1931-4cb7-a8f2-7f2f0babf2a7/ddjamb1-122f9879-334b-49d3-9bc8-46d9c2fb1b18.gif?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOiIsImlzcyI6InVybjphcHA6Iiwib2JqIjpbW3sicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvOTc2YzdhNDktMTkzMS00Y2I3LWE4ZjItN2YyZjBiYWJmMmE3XC9kZGphbWIxLTEyMmY5ODc5LTMzNGItNDlkMy05YmM4LTQ2ZDljMmZiMWIxOC5naWYifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6ZmlsZS5kb3dubG9hZCJdfQ.7WunW61zJYHTvK2AFA21ZN1a1QKTYkgXXTM43jI0AC0)
ＥＡＳＥ ＭＹ ＴＲＯＵＢＬＥＳ， ＴＨＡＴ'Ｓ ＷＨＡＴ ＹＯＵ ＤＯ
