CHULANE
I believe that dreams are sacred
Dragons. Dragons. He'd not seen one, aside from the small companion that was bonded to the Wraith. But he'd heard plenty about them - it was what had taken Weaver, what had supposedly haunted the Fangs for generations. There was always going to be stories about dragons in the pubs of Halo, in the streets, tales that the old told the young to keep them in line, tales that those who'd been here long enough told newcomers of without a shred of irony or humour lining their tones.
He walked the Tundra, in the form most suited to it - the long legged, antlered form of an Alaskan moose, feeling more and more a part of the land with every stride. It was as if the shifts that made themselves known within him kept suggesting that he was where he was meant to be - like the gods or fate or whatever kept insisting it to him. He huffed, forever struggling to accept such things as 'gospel', though it was getting harder to deny as time went on.
It was like a shadow on the horizon at first. The Tundra changed constantly - storms and wind and sun shaped and changed the ice and snow perpetually, so different landmarks rising and falling was an inevitable result. But this was not a snowdrift, or even an exposed rockface or an ursur or… Dragon? the thought cascaded through his mind, and he was suddenly relieved that he had left Auni safe in the Citadel.
He pressed onwards anyway, towards the great beast, bellowing a great note - a greeting, a warning?
He wasn't even sure himself.
He walked the Tundra, in the form most suited to it - the long legged, antlered form of an Alaskan moose, feeling more and more a part of the land with every stride. It was as if the shifts that made themselves known within him kept suggesting that he was where he was meant to be - like the gods or fate or whatever kept insisting it to him. He huffed, forever struggling to accept such things as 'gospel', though it was getting harder to deny as time went on.
It was like a shadow on the horizon at first. The Tundra changed constantly - storms and wind and sun shaped and changed the ice and snow perpetually, so different landmarks rising and falling was an inevitable result. But this was not a snowdrift, or even an exposed rockface or an ursur or… Dragon? the thought cascaded through his mind, and he was suddenly relieved that he had left Auni safe in the Citadel.
He pressed onwards anyway, towards the great beast, bellowing a great note - a greeting, a warning?
He wasn't even sure himself.
Take my darkest fears and play them
