the Rift

Glass half empty, glass half full.
Well either way you, won't be going thirsty.
Count your blessing not your flaws.

It fled from the light. Disturbed by its presence. The stallion's face fell in disappointment. He called his orb back and it returned to his side without a sound. It seemed that not every creature in this world was as ready or as eager to accept the light as those at the tree. What a shame. Perhaps in time the Metus would come to accept and take comfort in the hope that was slowly returning to the land. Until then the stallion would leave it to its fog and shadows. He had bothered it enough. He turned in the air and winced. As the adrenaline began to fade the pain that it kept at bay encroached upon Roscorro's body. His chest, still bleeding, throbbed in pain. With every down beat of his wings that pain stabbed at him. Gritting his teeth he rose in the air, unwilling to land again within the maze in case the Metus returned. He would fly to safer ground before seeing to his injuries. His task had been completed, and he would have the scars to prove it.



talk talk talk

Roscorro