The Portal
12-10-2017, 02:18 AM
The glassy eyes of the dying return her glance from the dark pile of feathers and wet fur on the floor, and the joy touching Taivas's heart is only increased. He would live. He would live because she arrived to save him in a desperate hour of his life. He would live because she tried her best to save him.
Never before had the feeling of accomplishment felt so great, so light and miraculous. The shaman had always excelled in her studies, surpassed her begrudging peers, but this made all her former efforts diminutive. That tired, half-alive stare from the boy on the ground meant more to her than every praise given from her mentors. She swayed gently in the wave of happiness filling her heart and soul for a moment. The thrill and excitement hardly visible from the outside, escaping in tiny changes of her expression and the outward glow engulfed in the orange light of the fire.
He does not speak, but he does not really need to. The small smile, smaller than even her own, that he briefly wears across her lips is enough.
Once back upon the earth, the weariness of her bones weighs her down. Her eyelids feel heavy and her breathing slows. Taivas cannot sleep, though; the weak stallion at her side is currently in her charge. He remains helpless, even with the heat from the fire breathing life back into the wintry air around them, and she, though tired and ill-trained, is still more capable of defending them both should a malevolent creature find its way here to them.
So, the painted girl remains awake and attentive, watching the tongues of flame dance pleasantly in their little cage of rocks. The element looks cheerful and bright, in contrast to the snow and dark shadows outside their little world within the hollowed out tree. After the initial high of saving another wears off, Taivas remains content and peaceful.
Then, she feels it.
A weak tug upon her face, but not a physical pull. This is the sensation of being watched. Her dark, starry eyes turn to look down at the floor, where her companion remains splayed awkwardly and unmoving amongst the dried leaves and autumn debris. His warm colored eye stares at her below thick lashes and exhaustion. She expects him to speak, as others normally are want to do when catching your attention, but he does not.
Others may have felt abashed to have another stare at the silently for so long, but if she were embarrassed in the slightest, she certainly does not appear so.
Taivas herself had never been much of a conversation starter, so she remains silent, watching him watching her in the cozy light of the fire. He looks larger than she remembers now, though she had already studied his figure several times to ascertain his physical status. Somehow, he looks even larger than she, and the girl wonders how she managed to shoulder his weight all the way here. Adrenaline must have provided her the extra strength, the lack of care for his size, and the motivation to keep pushing forward in an impossible situation.
She had been thinking of him as little more than a young foal, but now it becomes apparent he is older - perhaps around her own age. For the first time, she notices the touches of blue across his body and the horns set into his face. Details that were unimportant moments before, practically invisible to the eyes of a caring physician, are now blatant and prominent to the young mare.
After several moments, perhaps minutes, of just watching the stallion steadily breathe in and exhale air, she realizes that she has no idea what his name is. Only then does it occur to her that she should introduce herself.
"I am Taivas," she offers to him, hoping he will exchange his own name.
""
Never before had the feeling of accomplishment felt so great, so light and miraculous. The shaman had always excelled in her studies, surpassed her begrudging peers, but this made all her former efforts diminutive. That tired, half-alive stare from the boy on the ground meant more to her than every praise given from her mentors. She swayed gently in the wave of happiness filling her heart and soul for a moment. The thrill and excitement hardly visible from the outside, escaping in tiny changes of her expression and the outward glow engulfed in the orange light of the fire.
He does not speak, but he does not really need to. The small smile, smaller than even her own, that he briefly wears across her lips is enough.
Once back upon the earth, the weariness of her bones weighs her down. Her eyelids feel heavy and her breathing slows. Taivas cannot sleep, though; the weak stallion at her side is currently in her charge. He remains helpless, even with the heat from the fire breathing life back into the wintry air around them, and she, though tired and ill-trained, is still more capable of defending them both should a malevolent creature find its way here to them.
So, the painted girl remains awake and attentive, watching the tongues of flame dance pleasantly in their little cage of rocks. The element looks cheerful and bright, in contrast to the snow and dark shadows outside their little world within the hollowed out tree. After the initial high of saving another wears off, Taivas remains content and peaceful.
Then, she feels it.
A weak tug upon her face, but not a physical pull. This is the sensation of being watched. Her dark, starry eyes turn to look down at the floor, where her companion remains splayed awkwardly and unmoving amongst the dried leaves and autumn debris. His warm colored eye stares at her below thick lashes and exhaustion. She expects him to speak, as others normally are want to do when catching your attention, but he does not.
Others may have felt abashed to have another stare at the silently for so long, but if she were embarrassed in the slightest, she certainly does not appear so.
Taivas herself had never been much of a conversation starter, so she remains silent, watching him watching her in the cozy light of the fire. He looks larger than she remembers now, though she had already studied his figure several times to ascertain his physical status. Somehow, he looks even larger than she, and the girl wonders how she managed to shoulder his weight all the way here. Adrenaline must have provided her the extra strength, the lack of care for his size, and the motivation to keep pushing forward in an impossible situation.
She had been thinking of him as little more than a young foal, but now it becomes apparent he is older - perhaps around her own age. For the first time, she notices the touches of blue across his body and the horns set into his face. Details that were unimportant moments before, practically invisible to the eyes of a caring physician, are now blatant and prominent to the young mare.
After several moments, perhaps minutes, of just watching the stallion steadily breathe in and exhale air, she realizes that she has no idea what his name is. Only then does it occur to her that she should introduce herself.
"I am Taivas," she offers to him, hoping he will exchange his own name.
""
So seize the day 'Cause you have come so far
Watched a million frowns turn into smiles
Lost all track of time Felt the energy of a million stars
You'll feel love again after the rain
Watched a million frowns turn into smiles
Lost all track of time Felt the energy of a million stars
You'll feel love again after the rain
Taivas
