night
comes
Though smart enough not to blunder about foreign lands entirely unaware, Diaval does not notice the water-kissed mare as she cuts smoothly through the still waters. Watching, waiting, spying, a predator ready to strike. Pain wracks his body, his wings, his mind. The darkness a blissful shadow across eyes that hurt too much, squinting away from the moon that is dark and yet all too bright. The pounding in his head only grows louder as he drinks, a thump, thump, thump in his ears as the action of swallowing pops the pressure. The water is ice cold upon his tongue, tasting faintly of salt and earth and strongly of blood. The fallen prince cannot tell if it is his tongue that bleeds, or his lips but he knows the salty tang of life-liquid comes from him.
His legs quiver beneath him, barely holding up his ebony form. From the shock he tells himself. But the slowing ebbing pain whispers to him otherwise. It is like a backwards ocean, washing towards him rather than any. Growing stronger and stronger until he screws his eyes shut tight against it. One wing hangs a little awkwardly- not broken, but certain injured in some way. Or perhaps it’s his shoulder. He cannot tell, not with the pounding. The pounding that wont leave him alone. He wants it gone, the lights shining and dancing before his eyes, the acute tornado of discomfort.
And suddenly the rush of water, the splash that sounds louder than it should in the silence that lived everywhere but in his ears. His eyes snap open, the deepest blue like the darkest depths of the ocean. Or the highest heights of the skies. With the world swimming before his eyes, the dizziness not calmed by the cool water he can feel still sliding comfortingly down his throat, the winged steed can see only a form- bright as the mare is. Alarm punctures the cloud hovering over his brain and he steps back swiftly, shakily, drawing in a breath. The claws of his wings are sharp, the scar across he face says otherwise, but he is not a warrior. Words were his weapons.
As the distraction, and the sudden rush of adrenalin, chase away the shimmering lights and fuzzy mind-mist, Diaval makes out a tooth maw grinning a danger grin. “You ought to be more careful where you stop for a drink, stranger.
“I-I.” He stammers and then gathers himself, courageous even if not battle hardened. “I didn’t mean to disturb your waters.” He dips his head politely, a little regally, the dark fronds of his sweat-soaked hair cascading in a sheet of ebony over his neck. It aches, gods does it ache. But he was a prince, and a court-man before that. Courtesy went a long way, even in the face of danger. Though not every danger, he was quick to remind himself. Courtesy had cost him and his sister their kingdom, more fool him for it. “I’m Diaval. I just landed here, what is this place called?” Landed! Bah! She probably saw his fall from the sky and was here to laugh at him.
@Boudika <3
