AmaLiA
the archangel
A duo of unicorns races through the Boondocks, which is not unusual. What makes it an odd sight as well as a beautiful one are the qilin and starwhale in their midst.
Amalia has grown bold of late, wandering further into the Wilds, out of Stormbreak's borders. Today she has found her way to the Boondocks, a strange place of history and water whose beauty captures her imagination, setting her soul alight. She'd flown in on large barn owl wings but shifted when she found the pair, approaching carefully and respectfully, her bi-horned head lowered to the matriarch. Quiet conversation through body language and mental speech had allowed her entry for the day, and now as she runs across the water the Archangel is flush with delight and wonder, heart pounding furiously and eagerly in her chest.
They run and run, kicking up loam and water, leaving the ground furrowed in their wake. They run and Amalia forgets the darkness that has plagued her up until this point. They run, and the Archangel runs along with them, and she is not a shadow but a beacon, brilliant and alive in the Flowerbirth sun. They run until the night draws near, settling at last as the world is washed in tones of blush and vermillion.
They run until a shadow crosses the Boondocks- and then, as one, they stop, three sets of large eyes and a starwhale turning anxiously towards the stranger who dares to interrupt the freedom of their flight.
Amalia has grown bold of late, wandering further into the Wilds, out of Stormbreak's borders. Today she has found her way to the Boondocks, a strange place of history and water whose beauty captures her imagination, setting her soul alight. She'd flown in on large barn owl wings but shifted when she found the pair, approaching carefully and respectfully, her bi-horned head lowered to the matriarch. Quiet conversation through body language and mental speech had allowed her entry for the day, and now as she runs across the water the Archangel is flush with delight and wonder, heart pounding furiously and eagerly in her chest.
They run and run, kicking up loam and water, leaving the ground furrowed in their wake. They run and Amalia forgets the darkness that has plagued her up until this point. They run, and the Archangel runs along with them, and she is not a shadow but a beacon, brilliant and alive in the Flowerbirth sun. They run until the night draws near, settling at last as the world is washed in tones of blush and vermillion.
They run until a shadow crosses the Boondocks- and then, as one, they stop, three sets of large eyes and a starwhale turning anxiously towards the stranger who dares to interrupt the freedom of their flight.
& once again I shall kiss the sky
