A Flame in the Dark

 
The animals chirp and hum a hymn of night, and the smoke of the land curls like moving shadows around the snow laden trees. It was a calm night in the small corner, but it wouldn’t be for long. The change, or rather cause of the change, was unceremoniously dumped against the roots of an old tree. The being slumps and rolls down, sliding in the snow to the ground. It rests there a moment, and the strange world waits, watching. The creature was of strong unicorn blood, its twin white horns curving above its head. The rest of the body though was not seemingly as strong. Lean at best, and still growing, near two years old it still held the gangly body of youth. It was painted in contrast to the snow a pale gold, warmed at its tips in a dusty rose. 
 
He’d been in a forest….a pine forest…the blizzard had been sudden. He’d searched for his sire…the golden Laurelin, Thranduil, but there hadn’t been time. (Had he been caught in it too?) The roar in his ears of the storm had just grown and grown as he raced the wind itself….and now he was here. Where was here?
 
The pale creature’s eyes open at last, their icy blue gaze trying its best to pierce the shadows. The darkness could not hide the familiar twisting trees, and bright neon purples and greens. With the realization the youth groans. Here. Again. “Good to see you haven’t gotten creepier at least,” He was the gold’s son after all.
 
Rolling upright the young buck moves to stand. Under the taunt skin though some ribs showed, so did the moving sinews of muscles. Youth in the form of a slight awkwardness marks his movements. Upon standing he shakes his whole body out. At his withers, just below his mane, fans several feathers licked with flame. Their white quills flex with the creature, before the small whisps of lighted flame soothe back down. The same is bunched at his tail dock. The last source of light and warmth comes from his head, upon his horns. Clasped their two bones rest, etched with runes, and atop a point of each, a small flame stands alight. The cuffs were his….the feathers were a curse.  So it can be excused that he lets his shoulders sag in slight defeat, as he looks upon the snow graced world he finds himself, because the curse came from the very land he found himself in.  
 
Yes, he’d been here before…though besides his pale gold coat and flame brandished shoulders, he’d be unrecognizable. The colt who’d landed here long ago had been a scared, innocent youth. (With a mother….a brother…gods…it was all coming back to him). Now stood a young stallion, assured (mostly), wizened (or being so), strong, and with a touch of regality pride lends. Two years on the path with his father had not been spend idly. Of course, he was also not his father. The shadows never did feel at home to him. For though he was no longer a babe, he was also still a youth, struggling to decide which mantle of destiny to take up. Not that in the face of shadow and night he would admit it. So in the end this at least was a different flame than had landed here before. Or so he was trying to assure himself as the shadows loomed large. Snorting and stomping a hoof in the snow the youth steadies his resolve. Light Spanish head rises up to the woods, looking finally to see if any of the shadows in the night, the supposed monsters were real. He was no longer scared of the dark for he was a flame. 
 
OOC ::  Hello all! I'm a bit of a wayward Helovian come back....so Galahad here has actually been here before. Please though come say hello! Also...I tend to write novels...so please ignore the length, never a need to match it. =]
"speech"

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credits


OOC: Not sure if he was here before if he needs to be rolled again? But just to ensure, here's his rap sheet.

Magic:
Transformation: Can transform into a fire Phoenix. Feathers can burn upon will.

Items:
Vanity: Gold cloth, sheer and glowing with stardust; clips with circular, swirl-engraved pin.
Defensive: Armor from Helovian Fire monster made with hide/bones/teeth with leg guards. Collapses to horn cuffs at will and can ignite. 

Mutations: He gained a mutation from his transfer, for a small collection of feathers at his withers and haunches, lighted with flame.