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Cyrril The sunlight sends a strained and dappled pattern upon the ground, setting the fallen leaves on fire with color. A slight wind rustles them, partially hiding the rush of the nearby stream, but not hiding the fresh scent of mud and water. In the oak tree next to you, a small gray bird trills out a high-pitched song, his blue-tinged wings frilled as he sings. Hearing the snap of a twig to your right, you turn. Standing nearby is a well-built unicorn mare. Her body is patched with areas of red and white, with a subtle fading of the two near her knees. A crimson stripe lines her long white mane and tail. Slender and long, a translucent horn sits upon her forehead, the orange-red seeming to glow with the sunlight. As she takes a step forward, you see that her hooves are not like the rest of her- they are a bright blue.
She watches you for a minute, hesitating, and then speaks softly. Yet her voice carries beyond the loudness of the leaves and the stream. "Sella Li, traveler. I am Bright Way, or Cyrril. It makes no difference which you prefer to call me by." "It doesn't?" you ask her, surprised. She nods. You introduce yourself. "In case you wonder why it makes no difference," she says, "it's because they both mean the same thing. I know both Gavanian and Savine, but language barriers are no problem here so long as I continue to speak in Savine. It has a little to do with a collective telepathy, but I admit to not knowing much about it myself." The bird on the tree flies away, his song complete. Bright Way watches him leave, then turns back to you. "Oh! Just so you know, I'm from the Unlasta se Cassa. I should have mentioned that when I introduced myself." "What is that?" You ask. "Perhaps you should visit the world I was born in, stranger," she says cryptically, "Gavania." She gives you a unicorn smile and wanders off downstream. You can hear her singing, quietly. "Oh, Dolphin, sing to me your song
Name: Cyrril (Bright Way)
Paints from Gavania |
