blue feather

he was believed to be the beginning of the prairie — the beginning of the blessing and damnation, the call to the start of its unnatural lunar phenomenon. his existence was merely diluted to something of tales, a gnarled headstone in a graveyard of pristine memorials.

fallen rocks was a lone explorer. he found himself in the deepest ravines, the highest mountains, yet nothing itched his waiting paws more than the solemn prairie. lonely, it called to him for the first time on a dark summer night and not once failed to indulge him in its beauty since. it stretched beyond where the eyes could distinguish horizons, and cool breezes leaned to him when he paced, the beautiful flora brushing his underbelly with every step.

there, he was alone. for as far as he knew, it could've been hidden for eons. the nightly silence was hauntingly beautiful, and so he quickly became enamored with the prairie. there was nothing more he loved than waking up in its tranquility, hunting and lapping from the cool streams.

when the sun fell, it would lull him into a divine sleep where he experienced dreams like no other. within them, he felt like he was uncovering something - something untapped that he could not quite place - which was nothing short of magical. in one night's dream, he followed a luminous blue light through the prairie, its iridescence almost pulling him into something celestial. as it drew closer he felt unimaginably safe, the shimmering hues creating a reflection on his paws- and like that, the dream was over.

ever since that day, falling rock had no dreams, but with every time he slept, he would feel dizzy, sick, blank inside. the once angelic prairie slowly became as impassive as he, yet he couldn't leave, for he was addicted to the idea that its beauty would still return to him. he imagined the dry wildflowers and blurred, warm skies were still blushed understories and cool, painted clouds. he imagined his dreams would return to him, a mirage of the world he had caught only a glimpse of before replaying in his head. then, on one autumn night, the prairie took him.

his breaths became shallow, weak, eyes drifting closed with aching exhaustion. it took far too much energy to fight the pull, and eventually, he fell. there was no ground shaking, no screeching or dashing creatures. just a simple, cerulean glow from beneath where his body lay. it grew nightly, the ground glowing beneath him and bursting colorful auras to the surface. its unearthly hue would ripple like water above the shortgrass, turning waves with every breath of wind.

it was serene, in a way, yet undoubtedly eerie, and soon, the prairie had been fully overtaken. by day, it was more gorgeous than what fallen rocks knew before, and by night, the lunar energy from the moon seemed to penetrate the atmosphere of the ground below. ghostly blue specks drifted low to the ground, and the space-like haze carried a pale current of wistful, still air across the grasslands. it was truly something out of a well-remembered dream- or perhaps a forgotten nightmare.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[my first son here on wolvden, who will always have a space in my heart] ♥