punk in drublic

ooc. he didn't even make it to the actual border in the end, so dw about him trespassing. Just a gay idiot in a field!

The latest batch of his spiced mead had been way too strong. It was nearly impossible to keep his paws under him, yet he'd managed to wander quite far from the familiar surroundings of his temporary home in the caves along the southern coast of Boreas. Far enough to have found warmer climes, as well as the beginnings of an impossibly starry sky. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware of the musk of border markings. Growing closer with each wobbly step, but he wasn't close enough to register them properly. All of those stars were whirling about the sky almost too fast for him to comprehend, and as he broke through the treeline at a slow stagger, the wraith stopped dead in his tracks. Once he stopped moving, the stars settled into their proper places against the rich backdrop of the midmight sky. The thin sliver of the moon overhead didn't drown out the myriad sparkles of the stars and planets overhead. The gods all lived up there, all except for his. Drunk and still harbouring unspoken trauma from his exile, it was more than enough to draw tears to his eyes. Would he get to be up there among them one day? All of his usual grace was lost, and the delicate waif dropped heavily onto his haunches to stare blankly up at the stars.

Two toned gaze drank in the gentle whorls that the smallest stars formed as they traversed the sky, a trail of glittering dust spanning the length of the impossibly massive sky, then decorated by the larger bodies of a few planets. Too distant to truly see, but their light was far brighter than the stars, tinted in shades of ruddy gold and crystalline azure. His lower jaw hung open just the slightest, long fangs glinting in the starlight and bottom lip still stained with the last dregs of mead. As he craned his head even further up, up, up to see it all... he tumbled straight backwards. Landing on his back with a soft oof of surprise, he found himself too weak willed to bother sitting back up. The grasses here were impossibly lush, a green cushion against his slender spine. Besides, he could see all of the stars from down here, just by tipping his head to one side or the other. The amethyst marked yearling didn't know much about the night sky, aside from its status as the home of the divinities, but he knew it was beautiful to look at. Clusters of those winking lights formed subtle shapes that he had to really concentrate in order to trace over with an outstretched paw. What did they mean?

Tucking his mismatched forepaws close to his narrow ribs, he stretched his hind legs out into the thick grass. A tiny comet streaked across the sky, almost too fast for his mead-addled mind to track its path overhead. By the time he realized he was falling asleep, it was too late to move elsewhere. The plains would do just fine for a quick nap.. he'd get up before the sun, right? As the last vestiges of consciousness abandoned him, his tapered crown tipped over, and he fell asleep with his cheek pillowed on the verdant grasses of the vast plain.

"Pontifex" || "Hallux" || "others"