60th of spring
not quite dusk
The sun was preparing for her descent when he saw the speck on the horizon. It sat snugly upon the crest of the gentle, almost undetectable rise, a monument towering over the endless brown that enshrouded and supported it. And as he looked at it, he knew in his heart that it was what they were looking for.
The Serenity Tree.
The breath he exhaled was almost explosive in its depth, prompting even Akaidras’ disinterested ears to swivel in his direction. All the stress and strain that had built and built on the journey, dragging him down with intangible weight seemed to lift all at once, and in its place flowed cool, sweet relief. They had made it.
He leaned forward in the yvas, putting his forehead against his strider’s neck. The stallion nickered in inquiry, and the Drykas tapped tired signs against the rippling shoulder. Relief, arrival, finally, good, hope.
He wasn’t quite sure if the horse understood him or not, but Akaidras’ posture suddenly became just a little taller, his steps a little more eager. The hunter added love, gratitude, dear friend.
He then straightened, keeping a hand on Akaidras’ neck, and turned his gaze to the sky. With his remembrance of Pavi, the signs he sent her had become more complex since fall, peppered with things he was sure she wouldn’t understand but that he did anyway. It was as much for himself as for her, and he had the sneaking suspicion that her keen intelligence would make short work of the new signs, if given time.
Now, he said. Relief, over there, rest, at last.
He jostled Akaidras with his knees, urging the horse to greater speed. The response was almost immediate; the endless days he had spent in the yvas had connected them, and when the days were so fluid that it sometimes became difficult to remember a time when he had not been atop the beast, the barriers between them seemed to melt and they could move as one being. Never more than a very slow canter, but it was still a surreal sharing of hearts, when turning and speeding and slowing became effortless information passed from one to the other.
The Tree grew as they approached, a true giant of its kind that sprawled carelessly over the ground. Its spring canopy made it look like some odd, leafy pavilion, with snatches of shadow here and there for windows. The promise of shade and shelter beckoned him, and he only sped as they grew nearer. Akaidras snorted, unsure about the tangle of green, but the hunter urged him onward. Though put off, the stallion sensed no danger, and so cautiously began to weave a way through the branches.
not quite dusk
The sun was preparing for her descent when he saw the speck on the horizon. It sat snugly upon the crest of the gentle, almost undetectable rise, a monument towering over the endless brown that enshrouded and supported it. And as he looked at it, he knew in his heart that it was what they were looking for.
The Serenity Tree.
The breath he exhaled was almost explosive in its depth, prompting even Akaidras’ disinterested ears to swivel in his direction. All the stress and strain that had built and built on the journey, dragging him down with intangible weight seemed to lift all at once, and in its place flowed cool, sweet relief. They had made it.
He leaned forward in the yvas, putting his forehead against his strider’s neck. The stallion nickered in inquiry, and the Drykas tapped tired signs against the rippling shoulder. Relief, arrival, finally, good, hope.
He wasn’t quite sure if the horse understood him or not, but Akaidras’ posture suddenly became just a little taller, his steps a little more eager. The hunter added love, gratitude, dear friend.
He then straightened, keeping a hand on Akaidras’ neck, and turned his gaze to the sky. With his remembrance of Pavi, the signs he sent her had become more complex since fall, peppered with things he was sure she wouldn’t understand but that he did anyway. It was as much for himself as for her, and he had the sneaking suspicion that her keen intelligence would make short work of the new signs, if given time.
Now, he said. Relief, over there, rest, at last.
He jostled Akaidras with his knees, urging the horse to greater speed. The response was almost immediate; the endless days he had spent in the yvas had connected them, and when the days were so fluid that it sometimes became difficult to remember a time when he had not been atop the beast, the barriers between them seemed to melt and they could move as one being. Never more than a very slow canter, but it was still a surreal sharing of hearts, when turning and speeding and slowing became effortless information passed from one to the other.
The Tree grew as they approached, a true giant of its kind that sprawled carelessly over the ground. Its spring canopy made it look like some odd, leafy pavilion, with snatches of shadow here and there for windows. The promise of shade and shelter beckoned him, and he only sped as they grew nearer. Akaidras snorted, unsure about the tangle of green, but the hunter urged him onward. Though put off, the stallion sensed no danger, and so cautiously began to weave a way through the branches.
