savannah
you shine in this pitch darkness
that is the butterfly effect
The stallion dressed in a simple purple cloak was easy to overlook; he'd made it that way. His image a blur of unrecognizable features as he traveled the little used streets. He didn't mind the lack of attention, of company, of anyone attempting to butt into his business. He was on a mission of the utmost importance, or at least important to him. He stood at the doorway, a small box gently being left to the ground, wrapped in a sparkling purple fabric and the a soft gold ribbon. He quietly activated the rune on the note, "Seal, Syn." ensuring that only his best friend would be able to open it. He winced at the flare of magic that reminded him of how weak, how puny this bastardized version of his former ability was. He snorted once, knowing she'd recognize his craftsmanship as soon as she opened the box, found the delicate butterfly inside. He could already hear it fluttering about faintly from it's confines.
He snorts as he turns away, weaving through the streets, following the same path that was drawn out in golden ink upon the unsigned note he had left her. No words. No explanation. Just a sketch of the path to follow. He slid into his workshop and home, sighing as he shook the snow from his back. His gaze turned towards the fireplace, and spoke the command that would activate the rune he had carved into the fireplace, "Light." The stallion swayed at the rush of magic leaving him, frowning again at his own weakness. It wasn't much that he had done. Activated two runes, but that was already his limit for the time with out a proper rest.
Making a face, the stallion went about organizing and carefully setting a teapot over the fire, organizing raw materials in their shelves, all variety of work to help continue to organize, set up and unclutter the haphazardly tossed about items that had been so cruelly handled by those movers when he'd bout this place. The mage shook his head in dismay, finding another gem smashed into pieces, quietly scooping up much of the mushed glittering dust into a jar that could still be used elsewhere while carefully preserving the larger pieces for future refinement. All the while, his ears remained on the door, for when his best friend would come blazing in as he expected she would. She was always the energy to his collectiveness after all.
"Speech"
Thoughts
@Absynthe
Notes: <3 As promised his first post for Syn
