Jan 05 2018, 05:44 PM
The storm was raging, its lightning crackling against the high ceiling, sending flashes of light across the room of Polaris and through the eyes of a very observant bird curled in a moonstone shell. His eyes were wide and watchful, each glare lightning in his eyes with a bright blue glow. His wings, not yet of the bright blue of maturity, were curled tightly against his side, the muscles not yet functional and not quite in his awareness just yet.
He just continued to watch the storm above, both with fear and admiration.
For it was light, bright, blue and white, and it was destruction, for the winds tore rock from stone. In his little shell, he observed this strange, unbalanced duality with awe.
As he watched, his entire being focused on this one observable event, he started to become aware of other things. Of the shell and of his own body, which was cramped and barely fitting in his cage any longer. He didn't really think, he just struck out against the shell. It cracked and he struck out again. It cracked and once more, and it shattered, letting him tumble out.
Suddenly, the storm wasn't his concern anymore. Suddenly, he was alive. He was breathing and he was feeling. The world had opened up to him, from the darkness to the storm above, the sounds of both silence and the thunderous clouds. He stood there, in awe, unable and unwilling to say a word as he looked around before finally looking back up.
The storm looked different now that he was in free air and it was certainly more terrifying from the ground. He cowered beneath it, but still felt a ring of joy at each flash as color illuminated the room. It was beautiful and he wanted to make light too.
He just continued to watch the storm above, both with fear and admiration.
For it was light, bright, blue and white, and it was destruction, for the winds tore rock from stone. In his little shell, he observed this strange, unbalanced duality with awe.
As he watched, his entire being focused on this one observable event, he started to become aware of other things. Of the shell and of his own body, which was cramped and barely fitting in his cage any longer. He didn't really think, he just struck out against the shell. It cracked and he struck out again. It cracked and once more, and it shattered, letting him tumble out.
Suddenly, the storm wasn't his concern anymore. Suddenly, he was alive. He was breathing and he was feeling. The world had opened up to him, from the darkness to the storm above, the sounds of both silence and the thunderous clouds. He stood there, in awe, unable and unwilling to say a word as he looked around before finally looking back up.
The storm looked different now that he was in free air and it was certainly more terrifying from the ground. He cowered beneath it, but still felt a ring of joy at each flash as color illuminated the room. It was beautiful and he wanted to make light too.