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Always on the move, Valerian set his eyes on the spiny teeth of mountains inhabiting Novus. Something to get lost in, to delve in fully – mentally, spiritually, physically as each precipice defied the heavens. He would never admit truthfully to his nomadic tendencies, that it was his wings that ached to keep him moving rather than his limbs. That it was truly an ingrained sense of wanderlust, that existed fervently in each person. To be without this sense, this desire – meant like something of a death to Valerian. Who, hardly satisfied with a sedentary life style, could not envision a life confined to one familiar space. Unbroken, untested and ultimately chained to the rudimentary.
It was with a heavy, beating heart that he dove further into the winding paths. The trails became necessary to travel by, when the weather did not cooperate. Which it hardly did between mountains – how Valerian knew, and respected the giants that rested within Novus’ heart. The wind could not escape their twisting knife-edges, nor the rhythm of trapped and lost humidity. “Aye, but what a prickly heart you have,” he mumbled with a huff. “Calloused and… rough, unforgiving… son of a –,” he held his tongue between his teeth. Shivering, when a light breeze ruffled past his wet, sweaty sides. Superstitions set aside, Valerian did not want to evoke the fates upon him.
In the distance a fleet of plumed clouds sailed against him. Tall, bodacious, churning as the air filled with the scent of dust and nearly prickled against his skin. Charging the air with forewarning to those who traversed throughout the mountain’s sides. The high sun dull as the clouds moved closer.
While a jolt of trepidation furrowed his brow, a likewise smile crawled defiantly along his lips. Taking the challenge, he picked up his pace and unfurled his wings to test the airs around him. Time was on the horizon, slipping away as the encroaching storm buckled forward. Though the winds were hardly cooperative the further he pulled up. Each swoon and push became more unpredictable than the next. His eye sought a means for shelter along the road. And just as he was about to give up, Valerian spotted a ledge carved out from one of the sides. Housed by a small patch of conifers, gnarled and beaten, Valerian made his unsteady descent against its edges. The path remained at his left side, as he made purchase of the ground with his hooves. Nearly loosing his footing he stumbled forward. His wings beating to compensate for the loss of traction.
Valerian cursed underneath his breath. He crooked his head back to the left, eyeing the fringes of the rock ledge that crumbled beneath his hind hooves.
While the air whistled about him, growing stronger and steadier with time.
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