Floating Key
She stood upon the precipice, courage wavering as the wild coastal wind towed at her frail blue figure, gazing with baited longing at the island out to sea. Eira had been waiting many more days than she cared to count for Floating Key to swim by (the concept was as peculiar as it was intriguing), and at last, it was within view - perhaps too reach, if only she could fly. Nervously, shivering with unbridled trepidation, the young orphan slipped from the slippery, slimy boulders at the edge and back to relative safety amid the gnarled woody growth fashioned by the same howling tempest into a northward incline. Dark eyes which mirrored the murky ocean ahead of her, doubled back to examine the butchered array of silver and blue feather-work, adorning either side of her scrawny barrel. Fly, she told herself firmly, that’s what they were made to do. But Eira hadn’t flown an inch in her life, and the idea curdled the potent juices in her starving stomach. Indeed she felt sick, terrified, for the distance between the (presumably) pillow of water and this point, was a clutter of sharp boulders and hard, wet sand. Should this fail… But it won’t, she insisted, not for one second confident, yet the Rift beckoned her to make the leap and return the grown creature she’d been nursing, back to its rightful home. Between the slight part of her charcoal-tinted lips, the waif drew a heavy breath. Without allowing herself further opportunity to dally, Eria slid her downy ears backwards (for the Eriucla hid within the left), and lunged forward into a hobbling, hurried sprint. So slippery was the surface of that cliff right near the drop, that she nearly fell twice. At the last moment, the yearling gathered her trembling haunches beneath her and propelled herself into the openness beyond, the sky. Her weak arms cracked and clicked as their stunted spread revealed, and she found that the concentration required to unite their groaning movement, was enormous; far more intense than she’d predicted. What have you done! her thoughts screamed suddenly, terror striking her heart through the centre like a flaming stake. Eira’s legs flailed and her damaged wings struggled for composure. Pain resounded through the joints of each wasted arm, and she began to sob, focus and tears, melting away with the streams of chilling rain. Quickly the ill-fated bird lost momentum and though she could not see the grave upon which she now should fall, a swollen king tide’s merciful mouth opened to greet her. With a stinging splash, she entered the thrashing current like a rock and the cold of that rising black depth gnawed at her like the teeth, perhaps, of that hideous, horror-inspiring Metus. Though the pressure squeezed her brittle body terribly, Eira tried her best to fight, scrabbling against the pull of the undertow, of death, with every scrap of might she could muster. Fay! her mind screamed to the rhythm of every lash, Fay!… Fay!… |
Note: @Roscorro @Kyros - I'm sorry, that was random and dramatic. I don't know wtf she was thinking...
Also, she doens't have a horn yet, but the picture is too good to not use lol.
