Rehomed to Potato
You can decide what you'd like to do. Anything writing related, 500 word max. Art, 2 max and must be by you. If you're posting a picture or gif, only 1 please. If you have any questions feel free to ask! Will end Sunday, January 25.
Striped~Hatter wrote:Username: Striped~Hatter
Equid's Name: Israfel
Age: 9
Gender: Stallion
Height: 14 hh
Extra: {500 words}
The wind sung through the trees, a soft melody that Israfel hummed to alongside the catbirds above him. His hooves were light on the ground and his heart strummed with the poetic melodies of harps and lutes. The music that raced through his veins was antique, slow and scaled. He liked treble clefs the best, with bass and the C-clefs acting as accents. Right now, the earth pulsed with a sweet, simple composition in the key of C-major.
He danced along the forested side of the mountain, climbing higher. Soon night fell upon the land and he waltzed in the light of the moon, singing with the shining stars. Nobody could hear them save him, but Israfel knew it was the others who never listened hard enough.
Then the world grew dark, quiet. Israfel stood stock still, weary against the silence. When he looked up to wonder where the moon had gone, he whipped his head away. He hadn’t met the moon in the eye, but from his peripherals he saw a blinding light the colour of blood orange. His heart raced with a panic. The music was gone, the signature beauty of night replaced with a black void and blinding frays.
Israfel took a cautious step forward, immediately rocking back. He was confused; never before had an event as such occurred. He was scared; the eerie whispers of wind through the trees weren’t of song, rather of cries like starved wolves. His ears twitched and his eyes grimaced, but he grew curious. Before his resolve could crumble, Israfel leapt forward; bounding up the remaining distance to the mountain’s peak.
At the top, he came to an abrupt stop and calmed his heartbeat. Still avoiding a direct gaze, he tried to listen to the moon. It was quiet, though, as if it were trying to listen to him. He grew frustrated, what was wrong with the queen of night? He feared for her, for he would most definitely miss the glow she gave for her sisters in choir.
The quiet was unnerving and he figured it was forcing the moon farther into hiding. He still wasn’t sure what had pushed her away to begin with, but it had been near an hour now and he was helpless. He willed the screams of the thin air around him to soften to a harmony, and he searched his old soul for a melody. It was hard, but he grew an intense determination to bring the moon back and thus concentrated with a rock-solid resolution to bring the moon back.
He started out with a quiet, shaky hum. After his mind fully converted the ambience around him to an orchestral performance, his voice grew in volume and confidence. It took only a passing of ten minutes for the moon to peak around, bright and white.
Israfel would deny each who tried to tell him it was an eclipse that passed coincidentally. For he had brought back the moon, and that’s all he knew.
