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He can’t remember the last time he stopped. The last time he attempted to dig roots, and tap into that inter connected shit with the people around him. It was easier to observe, to try and figure out what made the mortar and bearings of their communities stick. Perhaps Valerian just didn’t try enough. Wasn’t strong enough to dismay the thought of coming off too shallow, or putting up a mask to hide who he had really become. It felt wrong, but oh so natural and safe, and easily broke and forgotten.
These were different times, he’d tell himself. Repeating it over and over, until he thought he believed those thoughts just enough. Imparting the same sense of wild hope he entrusted upon those blackened wings that carried him. With each stroke of feather gliding him towards this supposed new home, he willed it, filled the trepidation and nervous flare of excitement and unease with life.
“Home?” His wayward tones cast aloud as he crooked his head towards the earth. Preferring to keep high to survey the lands. A broken right eye was rather useless however; and required frequent checking from the other. Surveying side to side, up and down and all around – too far in land to back down now.
Today of all days he’d been blessed with a clear sky and amiable winds. It was just past the afternoon as he came upon the rolling meadows, inhabited largely by foreign individuals beneath him. “This would be the start now, wouldn’t it?” Giddiness sparked within the stallion. A rare, unusual wave of optimism blushed out from his chest and into his soul. And without a second thought he touched down with a gallant smile and sparkling eyes. Drawing now and then, to the pretty, fancy parcels carried around by some folk. Inevitably he felt the lurch to pick at it, and carried on to view the rest.
It may have been the energy of the people around him, which allowed the stallion to sway his travelling aches away. Or the ample, fresh grass that brought vigor and energy back into his limbs. Naturally he boasted this newfound spark, with the twitch of his lips and the drumming of his voice that carried him ahead.
“Aye!
The sun she burned with envy,
When I set my eyes away.
Beat my body with her devil heat,
Oh! How her rays left nothing to escape!
Oh, one eye – one eye to lead me crawling,
Ho!
One eye – one eye that led me running.”
He was unabashed, and winked to whoever cast him a glance. Sauntering with a voice that matched the harmony in his steps. And the smile that curled with unbridled, foolish abandon.
Was it enough to lure a likewise fool to greet him? With a less energetic voice, he stopped and settled in one place, humming in a somber, wistful mood, the texture of cooling charcoal and whisky.
“La de lay
Oh lady bright.
That fueled your hatred in the night.
How fair, how lonely it was,
- to exist without receiving.
The light you gave so willing.
When love was your beacon, burning bright,
No more, when I turned my sight.
One eye – one eye to lead me blind.
One eye – one eye to keep me bleeding.”
A soft smile settled against his lips. Feeling as a child might in the wake of some great history to be unfolded, right before his very eyes. Searching for something – something grand, and breathtaking.
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