Rainforest Cliffs
The yearlings ears bristle as a voice, clearer and more real than the rest, rises from the gloomy dark. This one is not disembodied and unintelligible. It is girlish and unashamed, carrying a tune that doesn't sound quite right.
He flicks his gaze to peer behind him, trying not to make it noticeable that he has spotted her. She is so hard to miss, a blonde little bird twittering amidst the hushed whispers of the wood that swallows her deeper with every step, oblivious to the schemes being dreamt up in the shadows whose jaws gape ever wider. Deciding the small filly is no threat, he continues on, noticing that she seems to be following him.
Varuna grins impishly, picking up his gait, leaves and other sorts of decaying matter crumbling beneath the shuffling of his hooves. The shadows grow deeper, and if she means to follow him, well, she ought to be brave. Does she not fear him? He makes like a spirit and weaves through the trees and brush without words. He must look like a phantom - black as sin, juxtaposed with the low-light forest and the bones glowing white through his muzzle. He plays the part gladly.
Varuna has seen things in the shade he isn't so sure of. He's heard the growling, twisting shadows mock him from their refuge; taunting, coaxing, with voices that beg to come near despite your better sense. Sometimes if you peer in deep enough you might see the glittering of teeth. He often dreams of being dumped out of the sky, sucked through the void with a million eyes watching him. He's not sure if that's a memory or something his baby-mind made up - fever dreams, or an over-active imagination. Wild Azulee is nothing more than a wisp of a memory now. The boy no longer yearns for his mother's teats, no longer fearful of the rift and all its secrets, but curious; daring; reckless. Lonesome.
He is only too eager to lead the babe deeper. She is naive to the dangers that stalk about, but so is he. He's watched the way wolves stalk their prey for long hours, noticing how they tend to go for the smallest, the youngest, the ones easiest singled out... Varuna's not so big when considering the size of his father, but he's begun to grow into himself, and maybe, if something does try to eat them, it will go for the child... especially since she is bleating so loudly.
You go where? Come and find out.
The path winds on, rocky and treacherous. He is careful to place his hooves. Even Varuna is unsettled by what he cannot see but does not hesitate as his heart beats in his ears, keeping the girl behind but not too far behind.
He flicks his gaze to peer behind him, trying not to make it noticeable that he has spotted her. She is so hard to miss, a blonde little bird twittering amidst the hushed whispers of the wood that swallows her deeper with every step, oblivious to the schemes being dreamt up in the shadows whose jaws gape ever wider. Deciding the small filly is no threat, he continues on, noticing that she seems to be following him.
Varuna grins impishly, picking up his gait, leaves and other sorts of decaying matter crumbling beneath the shuffling of his hooves. The shadows grow deeper, and if she means to follow him, well, she ought to be brave. Does she not fear him? He makes like a spirit and weaves through the trees and brush without words. He must look like a phantom - black as sin, juxtaposed with the low-light forest and the bones glowing white through his muzzle. He plays the part gladly.
Varuna has seen things in the shade he isn't so sure of. He's heard the growling, twisting shadows mock him from their refuge; taunting, coaxing, with voices that beg to come near despite your better sense. Sometimes if you peer in deep enough you might see the glittering of teeth. He often dreams of being dumped out of the sky, sucked through the void with a million eyes watching him. He's not sure if that's a memory or something his baby-mind made up - fever dreams, or an over-active imagination. Wild Azulee is nothing more than a wisp of a memory now. The boy no longer yearns for his mother's teats, no longer fearful of the rift and all its secrets, but curious; daring; reckless. Lonesome.
He is only too eager to lead the babe deeper. She is naive to the dangers that stalk about, but so is he. He's watched the way wolves stalk their prey for long hours, noticing how they tend to go for the smallest, the youngest, the ones easiest singled out... Varuna's not so big when considering the size of his father, but he's begun to grow into himself, and maybe, if something does try to eat them, it will go for the child... especially since she is bleating so loudly.
You go where? Come and find out.
The path winds on, rocky and treacherous. He is careful to place his hooves. Even Varuna is unsettled by what he cannot see but does not hesitate as his heart beats in his ears, keeping the girl behind but not too far behind.
