Apr 20 2021, 12:31 PM
His flight was still unsteady. Clumsy, even. He rarely flew; he felt uncertain with it, a leaf trembling on each breeze of the wind. Almost always, Ember remained groundbound, pacing along with that slow and steady plod.
White wings flapped twice, and he lowered himself (with relief) to the rock, and paused to look around.
The stone of Pisces glittered with moisture. The moss looked wet, and though the whole place was cold, it was beautiful. And it was cold; he drew his magicka around him like a cloak, faint warmth emanating from him.
Ember folded his wings more carefully against his back, and then made his way toward the centerpiece of the vast cave: the waterfall that roared into the lagoon below, its spray glittering in the light like tiny diamonds. It fascinated him at once, each glint and shine sparking reflections in his already brightly-glowing eyes.
He was silent as he made his way slowly, carefully, to the edge of the lagoon. And once there he leaned over, half-grown, goofily disproportionate face staring in with rapt solemnity. What lay beneath, in the cold, clear depths-? It was beautiful, he thought; whatever lay within must certainly be so, too.
@Indigo