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Days have passed searching for this land of Terrastella. Whispers and rumors of the festivities it boasts, guides the youth closer to its lights. Farther from the warmth of hot sands, and the arid, listless tapestries of the struggling trees that waver with each hot breath. He doubts his place there. The boy feels chased away, even though he hardly had a stake in its kingdom. It was a ghostly feeling, having become transparent and invisible in the land of ‘warriors’. It was unnerving to think that he embraced the sharp pinpricks of winter, the painful movement of the frigid airs rolling off his shoulders. Projecting faint, blurred remembrances of his sire – or the striking longing for his mother. Poignant, and severe in its purchase for his heart.
Would it change one day, he wondered? Would he finally be carved out, without emotion to bear himself forwards?
It seemed the most logical, the easiest path to wander out from. But without a teacher, or a mentor, his dreams for battle and war dwindled with the soft, clumsy snowflakes in the air. In the moment, as Saoirse navigated the heavy atmosphere with his wings, he grappled with the quiet, the softened presence of the drifting snow with amusement. The winds were not so forceful – at that moment. The precipitation, frozen, trickled down softly despite its cool presence on his withers or head.
Alone, he offered a rare and lonesome smile. Swinging from side to side in the spaces that separated him from the rest of life, the earth below– spilled with so many memories, forgotten in white.
Until of course, the coast appeared. Decorated by lights, by the low murmur of voices, of music and laughter. His ears flickered, deep green eyes darted below – startled by its presence. And with that a rogue wind, just the same, caught the boy off guard and struck him side ways. He lost some elevation while recovering, his muscles cold and sore from the travelling. He could see the ground, a plateau level enough to land.
Without finess, or control, he struggled with the swirling currents rising from the ocean side. And fell, stumbling on rocks he couldn’t see below the snow, and the ice that covered them. He shut his eyes when gravity continued its course, pulling his wings tightly against his body. And with a grunt the momentum stopped only a short while against the ground.
The boy huffed, resting on his right side and peaking out into the muddled sky. Billowing with clouds, and cold – and the scent of sweets and spices from the distance.
“This must be it,” he talked allowed. Missing the sound of his voice. “I hope so. But… maybe a… small rest first.”
The snow seemed to lessen here, the winds pushing those bountiful clouds further inland. He cast his eyes skywards, taking in the breaks of open sky. The fading light, the dipping sun as it shrouded everything it touched with a light, gold glimmer.
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