ISORATH
The walls of the Castle had grown close as of late, filled him with an itch which ran through his very spine and to the very tips of his wings. It's an urge which caught him glancing out of the stained glass windows, leaned against cushions in the wide balconies with his head perched upon the smooth stone.
It's the itch of flight, to escape for awhile and chase the strengthening sunlight.
Aether felt it too, and something in the Kirin suspected that the dragon is the source of this itch. A restlessness which rolled in waves, tepid at first until they raise upon the high ground and refuse to receed. He has not grown used to the sudden change, the lack of spires that reached toward the sun. The roosts contained within in which he is so used to, the Royal Rookery had been an expansive palace in the sky.
He's unsurprised that Aether lead their flight, when he'd finally conceded, following the winged shadow as he ascended off of his perch and into the sky. Isorath is a mere speck of white beneath his barrel, tucked so close he can feel the frost. Cool on his scales, it crept across their gilded visage in fine mist, often heralded by the rumbled purr of Aether's breath.
For a moment, he lost himself. Eyes closed as the wind pulled at his mane in flippant strokes, tugging at the fine ornaments to test their strength. It's only at Aether's prompt, a different in his breath and a rumbled growl which flickered his eyes open. 'What is it?' He asked, his head tilted a fraction to better scan the world beneath them.
'There.' The Dragon tried again, already angling his body down, and down. A whirling vortex of black and blue until he landed. His bulk could not slip beneath the canopy of trees, and so he's forced to make use of the vast open prairie fringed at it's side. Isorath followed, he could see it now. A glint of cream and purple beneath the speckled buds upon the trees.
In all his wildest, fleeting moments where his mind wandered back across the ocean, past where the mists enveloped the waves to conceal the treasure they jealousy guarded. His family, his home and everything he'd loved. He'd never expected them to turn up. Jude had appeared, and there is a momentary pang for the pastel Kirin, few were ready for the realities outside of their nation. The monumental difference felled even the most sure.
After he had left, he'd resigned himself to be the only one. Turned out he'd been wrong again.
"Vaella?" It's a question wrapped up in disbelief and happiness, a sudden surge of joy welled up in him like a font of power. His legs carry him without prompting, closer and closer until he's stood at the opposite side of the stream. Aether behind him uttered a gutteral noise, maw parted as frost rolled in misty waterfalls between his obsidian teeth.
There's an unmistakeable bewilderment written all over his scaled features, right down to the twitch in his toes, the impatient way his front limbs danced in place. All too soon it's replaced with a secondary realization, and rather than the fond greeting he wanted to give her, all he managed to blurt was:
"What in Aesthia's name are you doing here? Does she know?"
TAG: @Vaella
It's the itch of flight, to escape for awhile and chase the strengthening sunlight.
Aether felt it too, and something in the Kirin suspected that the dragon is the source of this itch. A restlessness which rolled in waves, tepid at first until they raise upon the high ground and refuse to receed. He has not grown used to the sudden change, the lack of spires that reached toward the sun. The roosts contained within in which he is so used to, the Royal Rookery had been an expansive palace in the sky.
He's unsurprised that Aether lead their flight, when he'd finally conceded, following the winged shadow as he ascended off of his perch and into the sky. Isorath is a mere speck of white beneath his barrel, tucked so close he can feel the frost. Cool on his scales, it crept across their gilded visage in fine mist, often heralded by the rumbled purr of Aether's breath.
For a moment, he lost himself. Eyes closed as the wind pulled at his mane in flippant strokes, tugging at the fine ornaments to test their strength. It's only at Aether's prompt, a different in his breath and a rumbled growl which flickered his eyes open. 'What is it?' He asked, his head tilted a fraction to better scan the world beneath them.
'There.' The Dragon tried again, already angling his body down, and down. A whirling vortex of black and blue until he landed. His bulk could not slip beneath the canopy of trees, and so he's forced to make use of the vast open prairie fringed at it's side. Isorath followed, he could see it now. A glint of cream and purple beneath the speckled buds upon the trees.
In all his wildest, fleeting moments where his mind wandered back across the ocean, past where the mists enveloped the waves to conceal the treasure they jealousy guarded. His family, his home and everything he'd loved. He'd never expected them to turn up. Jude had appeared, and there is a momentary pang for the pastel Kirin, few were ready for the realities outside of their nation. The monumental difference felled even the most sure.
After he had left, he'd resigned himself to be the only one. Turned out he'd been wrong again.
"Vaella?" It's a question wrapped up in disbelief and happiness, a sudden surge of joy welled up in him like a font of power. His legs carry him without prompting, closer and closer until he's stood at the opposite side of the stream. Aether behind him uttered a gutteral noise, maw parted as frost rolled in misty waterfalls between his obsidian teeth.
There's an unmistakeable bewilderment written all over his scaled features, right down to the twitch in his toes, the impatient way his front limbs danced in place. All too soon it's replaced with a secondary realization, and rather than the fond greeting he wanted to give her, all he managed to blurt was:
"What in Aesthia's name are you doing here? Does she know?"
TAG: @Vaella
