Where am I?

Though she loved the rain dearly, so too the cool change which had accompanied the rather potent arrival of Drench, Eira was already growing tired of the constant pattern of wet and the shortening gift of daylight’s blessed hours. The rainforest had quickly been inundated, and what began as fun, splashing and bathing in the refreshing, endless downpour, quickly became a battle to avoid rampant floodwater, and irritated, itchy skin. With the tiny creature she had discovered in the rainforest resting snug still beneath the steamy, drier feathery contours of her wing, she stepped from the mist shrouded labyrinth and down the heavily worn trail that led along to the Portal. “Ma, make it rain, Ma…? Ma, it’s raining!” The sound of her own voice, a memory, trilling with the innocence and wonderment of babyhood, broke through the mundane drum of the rainfall. It had been Cirrus who’d instilled in her daughter, such a fondness for the weather. There had been days where the curious foal wished to speak of nothing but the clouds, the shapes therein and the patterns streaming slowly in from the horizon. How wonderful it would’ve been to soar among them, lost in the endless sky-blue, to peer down across the rolling ocean and glittering white sands from that otherworldly place. It had been a good many months since last she’d scoured the land of nauseating light and blinking eyes - and the area was more or less, entirely how she remembered it to be. She remembered easily the moment she’d risen among them for the very first time - her heart began again to pound and as her eyes began to glaze with fear renewed, the tiny horse clenched them closed. That moment was past. Should she not have known better, Eira might easily have mistaken the tangled bodies of smooth, gleaming vine for hungry serpents invisible in waiting, to their blind-striding victims. The pale-blue and silver filly, however, stepped with care across their many masses and dipped beneath the burdened boughs from which they were also slung like thickly knotted, tumbled-together rope. Still the rain poured, and without the awning of greenery which had covered her in the rainforest, her emaciated body began to shiver wildly in desperate attempt to create within itself, warmth. The thick, shaggy blanket of never ending fur about her near-rattling bones, was well and truly waterlogged and as the wind whistled by in small, but vigorous bursts, she was forced to brace ,or else be cast down upon the saturated earth. With the gaping fissure between realms looming within view ahead, the movement of another in between drew the tiny horse’s sapphire-toned eyes away. Carefully she peered through the gnarled, feral vegetation and unsettling fringe of lurking eyes. Indeed there was someone standing in the rain, though it took a few moments longer to untangle the position of her body - that the bright haloing flare her, was in fact a wall of silvery flame and her wings had risen from each flank. Stunned, yet not unfamiliar with the arts of magic (for her very veins coursed with the same), Eira dithered uncertainly; she was rightfully wary of the danger causing such alarm and knew well her vulnerabilities.   @Sophia

Lines | Colouring