[ Respond | Andarin: The Mountains ]
Posted by Formaldehyde on February 28, 2009, 9:05 am, in reply to "you'll never come to break my fall;"
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Taming the beast. Perhaps it is called for, necassary, to maintain control, the upper hand, of our Familiars. Yet isn't the entire reason of their existance to watch over us, and simply not the other way around? There has always been a contradiction with the pairing of Grimm and myself; the White Raven and the Blue Roan. I see it. I know my friends do as well when I tell them his thoughts; he is cynical, sarcastic, arrogant and rude. Whereas I would much rather remain quite uninvolved with such afronting issues. However, something within us has bonded, and he keeps me sane; I need not control my Raven. For when he flies off to unknown lands, I still know that one day he will return, as he always has.
Taming the beast.
We're the beasts who need to be tamed; not the animals around us.
The experience of my Fire's wish to lap up the oxygen that surrounded the Warden as we met this time around came as a surprise; though I had come accustomed to my own Element, I was in shock to notice just how many horses had Air. Of course, I knew most of them before I had my Fire, and so all I felt was the oppression of Air on my Earth; ever since Fire crossed paths with me, I felt myself overcoming the obstacle of Air. It was cancelled out, refused, denied access to my Earth. And so, as my Earth approached Micah in a friendly manner, his Air was deflected by the hungry gaping mouth of my flames.
As though to illustrate this very feeling, this hunger of flame to air, my mane erupted into a swathe of burning fire, though the fire did not scald me. It flitted about, a line of flames from my poll, down my dorsal, to my tail, almost watching his Air, observing. But I suppressed this will of my Fire and chuckled slightly, listening to Micah's explanation of his new title. As he described it, I fear I could not understand, or comprehend, exactly what he meant; only those who have traversed the final step can know what they are talking about. Only those who have made the entire journey, crossed the threshold, have acquired the golden crown. One thing I believe I shall never achieve, and with good reason; why should a murderer and betrayer of his herd ever get further in life than he deserves? Such is fate. And karma. For me, the two intertwine, in a not-so-delicate fashion.
"It is good to know you have not changed entirely, Micah." I nodded, briefly shuttering my inked pools as I imagined if Micah had returned as some vagabond-crazy, wanting to rule or something. It was a wild picture, but it gave me something amusing to think on.
"Ah. I have been fine, I think. Grimm has kept me in line, on the straight course, or so I hope." Typically one would see the white corvidae perched upon my withers, but he had gone off somewhere, as he always does, to discover something new. I hadn't the interest to follow him- though I knew the main reason was that I liked my home here, and what with my new duties, I hadn't the time to go waltzing off into the darkness.
EARTH III FIRE III
Tacite Epitaphium
W O L F
SEER TRIBUNE
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