[AW] two birds on a wire,

[Eos]

Eos Her muscles were sore - her wings were nearly numb considering how much she had been flying; albeit, it had been a long time. Despite the want to rest, the girl continued with a specific determination. Find water and then she could rest; her tongue felt sandpaper and her teeth ground together in retaliation of the effect. Sand, sand, more sand - it didn't seem like it was to end anytime soon. In fact, she had believed it was all a trick of her own mind when she saw the coloration drift into a more monotone and desaturated differentiation. For a good moment or two, she simply hovered above the skies, the silence was excruciating - the only time anything was changed were each moment her wings slammed upon the clouds to keep her afloat.  Even then, it wasn't much of a distraction as she stared at the dead grass and snow and better yet water that was so tantalizingly close.  Her muscles screamed at her to rest and she nearly succumbed to the exhaustion and heat that coursed through her veins. Each lift of her wings felt like they were holding a ton of bricks, and, only when she looked around to scout from above, did she finally lower herself to the ground. She snorted as if pleasantly surprised by the fact that the snow had not been simply a figment of her imagination but instead as real as her prior memory of ever feeling it. How in the absolute fuck was there snow in the desert?  Her left front hoof rose to push some of the snow away. There was grass beneath it. Huh. Instantly, her wings dropped to the sides, relief flooding through them at the ability to at last rest. It had been so long - too long, how long? It had been days since she had last felt the frosted blades of grass beneath her hooves, the subtle gentleness of each seemed to lure her to the presence of water. And it succeeded in its goal. Finally moving, the dawn-colored vagabond moved towards the slow moving river. As she meandered closer, she noted that there were thin sheets of ice covering spots. It didn't make a lick of sense to her, in all honestly; it was summer - snow wouldn't come for months. But who was Eos to complain? Unadmirable and awfully nothing of an eye-catching task, her head lowered until she reached just the surface of the river; and thus, her story, in the most cliche way possible, began.

[Pan]

Pan

It was… cold?  Pan couldn’t exactly pinpoint why the summer weather seemed to shift so drastically here, and yet above the oasis, the air seemed ripe with chill.  He walked quietly along the abandoned water’s edges, his feet crushing through frost and sand as he rummaged about for herbs.  There weren’t many, but hearty grasses seemed to push their way through the earth around the water’s edge, as if defying the desert.  Like Pan, the plants here had evolved and changed to fit the locale.  The same could be said for the green boy with a wandering heart – for as he moves from place to place, Pan creates himself a home.

As a great shadow passes between the boy and the sun, he blinks at the sky, making out only the silhouette of the approaching mare.  Other than her arrival, the land is still and quiet, and so he welcomes the company with a wide and boyish grin.  Pulling the last bit of marsh herbs from the shallow water and thrusting it into his bag, he turns and makes his way toward the girl.

Hello?  His greeting is a question as he wonders if she would like his company… but before waiting for an answer, he steps boldly toward the new mare and offers, How’s the view from up there?  Oh, to be able to fly…. It would be Pan’s greatest wish.  In his dreams, the boy could simply think of happy things and leap into the sky.  The winds would carry him like a mother carries their child, and he could dive and tumble in the breeze as if it were ocean waves instead of rivets of air.  But then, dreams were far from his reality, so he can only sigh with a whimsical twinge of jealousy as he watches her land and explore the frost laden shores.

His breath is sheer against the day, expelling in a shimmery cloud of silver.  The boy takes great pleasure in this, blowing his breath in rings to watch it play in the cold.  I’m Pan by the way… What’s your name?

the vagabond adventurer

character by firefly
html by castlegraphics;
image by franknsteins

 
@Eos