oh look, a dragon!

Roscorro

The last time he had been beneath the darkened bows to the giant tree had been when the Matrons had decorated it with magic. A thanks for bringing hope back into their world. Now it stood, along and barren. Its darkened trin towering high above him. It made him, a 18 hh Clydesdale, feel small. It was a strange feeling, but not entirely unpleasant. He liked standing next to the massive guardian, it helped him to remember that there were bigger things out there. It put him in perspective and made him think. Though he was hardly the type to think highly of himself or get a big head, it never did him any harm to feel a bit more humility.

The tree whispered to him her name. Uwaritace. It was a gentle voice, not even a voice. A premonition that seemed to drift into his mind as softly and quietly as the mist that pooled around his feet. The gigantic tribrid continued to ret beneath the bows of the dark tree, like a chick beneath its mother's wing. He had found his way here after escaping the green labyrinth and its master, the Magnus Metus. He had been given a trial to challenge the creature and had received a parting gift for his troubles. His wings were tucked tightly against his body, his thick neck arched in a graceful curve, as he tried to peer down at his chest to assess the extent of the damage. Blood still oozed from the large, deep claw marks that he had received from the Metus It stained his pelt as it flowed downward until it fell to the earth in a slow, drip, drip, drip. the bleeding had slowed since had stopped his flight. No longer agitated by the constant movement as his powerful muscles in his chest and shoulders flexed and moved.

His sides heaved as he breathed deeply. His body trembled slightly as the last of the battle left his blood. He was left to feel the pain, exhaustion and fear that he had otherwise not experienced while filled with adrenaline. As so he stood beneath the tree, soaking in the silence as his heart stilled and his mind calmed. He would need to treat this wound, but he was not sure how to go about doing so. he had been taught basic healing by his adopted mother, but it had never been practiced. And the rift was so different from his homeland that he did not know where to start looking for herbs to help his wounds heal. So he simply stood there, gazing at his own blood as it leaked from his flesh. How to best clean this.

A light rain began to fall, kissing his skin with its cool touch. His flanks twitched at the new sensation, but otherwise he did little to acknowledge the pleasant sprinkle. He was more interested in something else. Where his blood had touched the earth, where the rain now misted it, plants were sprouting. He had never seen this before. Did his blood have some sort of new ability he did not know about? No. As he watched he noticed that everywhere the rain touched, plants grew. It was amazing! Never before had he been able to witness a plant grow from seedling to mature. He watched the little miracles before him in wonder. Then a feminine voice called out, pulling his gaze away from the spectacular scene. "I'm here." he answered clearly. He made no move to seek out the owner of the voice. If she desired, she could come to him. He did not desire to happen upon someone in the mist. He'd surely startle her and he never wanted that. Plus, to move would mean he would reopen the parts of his injuries that had begun close. He did not want to put himself through the pain again.

talk talk talk talk

You Can be king again

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ooc: Setting this shortly after he faced the Metus and his trial was completed (Yeah for liquid time!).