05-17-2018, 10:46 AM
haze like a fever
i fell like a dreamer for sweet tea and lemonade; it clings to my t-shirt it’s loud and it lingers, designed to suffocate. i light up to find what i’ve known all this time, there’s some beauty here yet
There is a kinship between them, one that Wishbone would only be able to explain if she knew of this stranger’s secret life. There have been many, many times when the mahogany girl has wished to morph her body into something different, like she’d seen others do in her youth (perhaps a whale to breach with the pods she’s spotted in the ocean, perhaps a wolf to run with Longclaw through the forests, perhaps an otter to splash with the family resting in Tephra). To explore all the adventures of the world is one of Wishbone’s greatest desires, and shapeshifting is just one escapade on that list.
Regardless of the girl’s personal goals, there is a look in the dark mare’s eyes that Wishbone can’t quite identify. They are both beautiful, in their unique ways — while the younger is doused in the flames of recklessness and audacity, the stranger is cloaked in regality and cunningness. They are similar to two sides of the same coin, Merida the shiny side and Wishbone the dirty side.
Wishbone’s amber eyes remain unwaveringly on the other’s red ones, showing no indication that she is uncomfortable by the unique eye color. Rather, the girl flashes another unbridled smile at the mentioning of rumors in the depths of Beqanna’s forests. That is good. Their strength and reputation is expanding into the regions of their homeland untouched by kingdom vices. Hopefully that news is good. Wishbone would offer to walk with the dark mare, but under the conditions of Nerine she supposes it would be more distracting weaving between muddy puddles and around draining rivulets rather than worthwhile.
So instead she opts to step closer, moving into the realm of friendliness rather than strategic approach as before. Upon moving nearer, Wishbone can see that the glowing spots on the mare’s body are merely reddish freckles highlighted by the dim sunlight. “I’m willing to answer any questions you might have, Merida.” Although she is independent at heart, the girl cannot deny the amounts of pride that swarm in her chest. “I’m curious to know what rumors you might’ve heard about Nerine. All good things, I hope.”
Regardless of the girl’s personal goals, there is a look in the dark mare’s eyes that Wishbone can’t quite identify. They are both beautiful, in their unique ways — while the younger is doused in the flames of recklessness and audacity, the stranger is cloaked in regality and cunningness. They are similar to two sides of the same coin, Merida the shiny side and Wishbone the dirty side.
Wishbone’s amber eyes remain unwaveringly on the other’s red ones, showing no indication that she is uncomfortable by the unique eye color. Rather, the girl flashes another unbridled smile at the mentioning of rumors in the depths of Beqanna’s forests. That is good. Their strength and reputation is expanding into the regions of their homeland untouched by kingdom vices. Hopefully that news is good. Wishbone would offer to walk with the dark mare, but under the conditions of Nerine she supposes it would be more distracting weaving between muddy puddles and around draining rivulets rather than worthwhile.
So instead she opts to step closer, moving into the realm of friendliness rather than strategic approach as before. Upon moving nearer, Wishbone can see that the glowing spots on the mare’s body are merely reddish freckles highlighted by the dim sunlight. “I’m willing to answer any questions you might have, Merida.” Although she is independent at heart, the girl cannot deny the amounts of pride that swarm in her chest. “I’m curious to know what rumors you might’ve heard about Nerine. All good things, I hope.”
@[Merida]