Demetrius!WDFBcC5x22 Wed, Apr 18, 2012 11:14 PM No. 97864
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>>97860
> People should give me songs or pics to write for! That's so easy. :P
I'd love to see a story about this mysterious OC, "Cloudia".
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"My grandma used to say something about that." You find yourself staring into those eyes again, eyes as warm and as brilliant as the sunset all around them. Their owner, a chestnut Earther, has soft fur and a softer voice. When he speaks, it is in a deep, gentle murmur that risks being blown away by the high-altitude winds even when raised in passion. Only groundbound stallions speak like that, a fact that makes the sound of his voice somehow all the sweeter.
"She used to say that the skies are wasted on the winged." At this, Hearthfire--for that is his name--shifts slightly, looking a little quilty. "I guess it kind of sounds, well, mean. Racist. I swear she wasn't, though! She loved Cloudsdale and Cirrus Crossing and all the ponies who visited from there."
"Sorry," you say, keeping your voice soft. "I don't think I understand. Wasted? Only Pegas really know the clouds, right?"
"I think that's just what she meant," Hearthfire replies. "You set every single cloud in the sky every day. A lot of you live your entire lives up here. So..." He pauses and breaks eye contact to sweep his gaze across the cloudscape all around them, slowly, as if he wants to experience every contour, one at a time. "So you Pegasi don't realize... how incredibly beautiful this all is." You almost lose Hearthfire's words to the breeze because he's on his back and speaking to the sky, but looking at him, he's easy to understand. The look in his eyes as he watches the way the sunset paints the cloudscape is more than just the openmouthed reverence that marks a first-time tourist. There's longing in his eyes--Hopeless, impossible desire. His chest rises and falls with deep, wistful breaths of cold high-altitude air. From this close, he smells like the flowers your mother used to bring from the market.
You reach out and gently brush Hearthfire's mane with a hoof that's colored a darker yellow than your mane by the setting sun. "You don't have to leave, you know," you murmur, trying to pull his gaze away from the sky and towards your own. "I can find you some work... enough to keep paying for cloud-walker enchantments. And I have enough saved to keep you going for a few weeks if you can't make enough, and--"
Hearthfire interrupts by turning away and shutting his eyes tightly. He speaks again, but he's facing away, and all you hear is his tone, low and flat yet somehow weak, not stoic.
"I can't hear you when you face that way. Can you look at me?" You say, a little apologetically.
Hearthfire snorts bitterly before turning around to face you, but his eyes are closed. "I said-- I said please stop." When he breathes again, it sounds forced. "I can't just stay. I have a job, I have a little brother, and my mom can't take care of him forever."
"You're a grown stallion! You could--"
"Stop," he says, more forcefully. "This week has been the most wonderful-- I can't even tell you how amazing this has been, but..." He opens his eyes gradually, and he kooks like he might cry at what he sees. "What if I told you to come with me? You don't have family. You can do your job from the ground. You could visit your friends once in a while."
Your stomach turns as you understand what he means. "I... I could!" You spit out desperately. "I don't have many things, I can join a weather crew down there, I..."
You stop as you feel his face nuzzling against yours. How did he manage that? Groundbounds had trouble moving on nimbus like this one; they were too soft, they tended to wobble and roll around... you must have edged closer to him without meaning to...
"But I can't ask you to do that," he coos. A shadow falls across your face as he blocks out the sunset, hovering over you. "Maybe we'll meet again someday. But until then..."
You can't hear the rest of what he says as he nips at your neck, hard enough to evoke a yelp. Cool hooves come to a rest against your shoulders, turning you willingly onto your stomach with not a feather more force than necessary. As you feel his weight come to rest on your back, pressing you deeper into the pillow-like cloud, his teeth drag a path of impossibly deft nibbles and kisses from your ear all the way to the crook of your left wing...
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"Hey! Cloudia! What're you doin' wearin' that big thing?"
"Hey!" You force a smile as you wave at Moonwing. "Hey, um, would you come here for a minute?"
Moonwing looks confused as she glides closer, coming to a rest on top of the cirrus walkway. "Are you sick? It's too warm for a high-neck."
"No, I'm fine. Look, I need you to go to the market and get me a scarf."
