Make Your Heart a Compass

NOITCERRU Coursing along the coast was full of memories for Noitcerru, most of them bad. While he had spent most of his childhood here, his earliest memories peppered with scenes like this - thresholds between the earth and the air, glittering expanses of foamed ocean ringed with the green edges of jungle and plain and forest - there was little to detract from the dangers of the sea, dangers he knew all too well. Even now there was an uncharacteristic dis-ease in his flight, a wariness that kept his eyes on the horizon for reasons a world away from his usual longing for the new, the novelty, the myth and legend of the next big thing. His wings were not waterproof, nothing stopping them from getting waterlogged and too heavy to fly. So much as a dip that went wrong was enough to keep him in the water, struggling against the tides until he was lucky enough to be cast off into the shore...if he even got that far. With that in mind Noitcerru shouldn't have been by the coast at all. It was a deathtrap, but so, to be honest, was anywhere else. And he was attracted to danger just as much as the glint of good memories amid the rest, the chance of a diamond in the rough. History alone could not stop him; only the events of the present. And so he found himself over earth and air and water, his wings beating to keep him on  a steady current. There was something that always attracted him to light. The shining luminescence of any object drew him in, activated some part of him that gave him no choice but to follow. The birds seemed fascinated with light too, following it with beady eyes and bobbing heads. He did the same with this light, nearing it until he saw a dark shadow by the edge. A stranger. Another horse. The effect was instantaneous. The birdman immediately approached from the side, concealing his approach with the ferns and the nearby vegetation. The pink light was nearby, but not so close as to immediately reveal his position. And he was glad. The stallion on the precipice between sea and water was...agitated. Noitcerru's ears flattened. Something went flying by, skimming past him and further into the undergrowth. Noitcerru snorted softly with surprise, his useless legs pawing the air in alarm from the flying projectile. But the thing soon hit the earth, rolling to a stop just by his corner where he was concealed by the ferns. He stared at it, cocking his head until the object revealed itself to be a....branch. The light had vanished; whatever it was, it had extinguished itself and left nothing but a patch of empty space where it once was. Noitcerru didn't know what it was, and didn't need to know; the Rift was full of lights and fogs and mists and dead gods, and there was often no explanation to find from its . But while the light had gone the stranger on the edge was still very present. Too present. Angry at the world, at a glance. Noitcerru studied him and raised his eyebrows at the folded wings on his back. A winged horse remaining like a hoofed, as though that was somehow...better. The thought of choosing to be on land rather than the sky was - curious. And the branch? The birdman sniffed it casually, his nostrils flaring as he turned to look at the stranger and his foul-mouthed outburst. Well, that just invited a response. His feathered friend over there had looked away as soon as the branch met its destination; looking back at him, the birdman could see his attention was on other things. As soon as he was relatively sure he wasn't being observed he went up to the edge, where the vegetation stopped and the great vault of blue began. His wings beat in gentle arcs to propel him closer, moving slowly as to conceal his approach. The branch was teetering on the very brink, one second away from falling to the blue depths below; reaching over, his lips parted and his teeth closed around the bark. And then it went flying, thrown back towards the black pegasus whence it came to, hopefully, bonk him on the nose. "Talk." @Virga run boy run this world is not made for you

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