Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-38113021-20190323232505/@comment-26510374-20190612011133

idk what color the eagle statue is,,.., if you had a specific color in mind please let me know and i will change it

Eros had been waiting for quite some time in the sweltering heat. He shifted back and forth on his feet in irritation. Why was he here anyway? Would it be such a big deal if I had simply never shown up?

He winced, lowering his head as the wolf, in front of him was whisked away on a loud gust of apparent family. It had been chosen. He frowned disdainfully, having his own opinions on this whole business, of course.

Now it was his turn. Eros hesitated for a moment, feeling the eyes of the crowd and the few behind him on his back. His talons dug into the stony surface below. His family, he knew at the beginning when he had scanned the crowd, had failed to show up (again). Best get it over with. Eros stepped onto the stage, hopping forward rapidly, wanting everything to be done as soon as possible.

He gave pause in the presence of the heartstone he had approached, a statue of an eagle, a gleaming cloudy blue, carved so masterfully by someone or something. Eros hesitated once more. He stared into the narrow eyes of the statue, feeling suddenly the weight of something greater than he. Eros hated this feeling, for he felt grounded, far below the swirling crowds. Swallowing hard, unable to melt his anger and the heaviness in his heart away, Eros closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the statue's.

The statue's eyes glowed as its hue deepened into an airy blue and, instantaneously, everything melted away.

''The wind. The clouds, the wheatstalks swaying gently with the world above, the breath of an evening song, the breeze, versatile in its carefree wanderings, inside out and back again. Gild me with your zephyrs, make me one with the gales and the roaring crescendo of the tempest, for I am one with the screeching skies above, playful as it is relentless.''

Eros gasped as he jerked back his head, stumbling backwards, almost falling onto the animal behind him, quickly righting himself, he whipped around in alarm as the crowd began to cheer. He stared on, bewildered, at the eagles whom he had never seen before, who were raising a ruckus nearby. It was a rather strange feeling, finding a certain sort of kinship with creatures who looked like him but had never met him before in his life.

As he glanced back at the statue, which now dimmed, this odd warmth faded away, replaced by realization. And then terror, as he glanced at his wings, their shining, iridescent tips, mirrored in his tailtips as well.

What am I going to do?