I'm ready to bleed to make amends
And sleep in this dirt we call our bed
So tell me your secrets
And join me in pieces
To fall and rewrite the bitter end
He couldn’t help but let his eyes dwell on the trial of dirt and debris that was strewn behind him. Mixed with clumps of his hair and dried skin. He looked around the shop; the open space was now more appreciable. He sighed softly and resigned himself to that everything would likely be ok. It would continue to niggle and nag at his mind for now, but in time that too would settle. Finding a sitting place fitting of his size, he lowered himself carefully onto it. Propping his tired head upwards, watching the fireflies within their glass homes.
He listened to her explanation about the creatures that dwelled inside the glass containers. It seemed to make sense. He just wondered how they came to know it would be safe, how they didn’t feel contained. He felt like he was a firefly inside someone else's glass container, no doubt he was here for his own good - but it didn’t ease his wariness.
“My entire body is singed by the anger of the mountain. My feathers are useless and itchy. Nothing major seems to be broken.” he nosed at some of the scabbed flesh on his side. Crispy textured and irritating, it would be sometime before anyone would be able to appreciate his true appearance. “My forehead is also on fire from where my horns are starting to grow.” Everything was difficult to itch and the more he itched the more it bothered him.
Speaking of his horns reminded him of his mother. They were no doubt a trait he had inherited from her. She had used them with strength and poise to be a formidable battle mare. However her grounded colt was nothing to be proud of, or train. Maybe if the volcano hadn’t erupted he would have been given a chance to prove them wrong.
ooc: @Caelum
