she’s got jumper cable lips
she’s got sunset on her breath. now i inhaled just a little bit, now i’ve got no fear of death
Growing up with diplomatic parents had both its victories and sacrifices. Often, Wishbone would spend a day traveling out to the common lands of Beqanna with her mother, her long dark legs prancing through fields of grass higher than her slender head. Those days were always fun ones — in spending her restless childhood in Tephra, she quickly discovered every inch of the island and it was blissful to explore new places — and the girl would frequently bounce among newcomers, asking them questions about the world beyond Beqanna. Such thoughts were on her mind perhaps more than they should be and such thoughts continue to linger when Nerine is quiet in activity.
Wishbone’s brows raise curiously to hear that Breckin doesn’t remember anything past the first year of her time spent in Beqanna. She is older than a year — perhaps even older than Wishbone — and to not know what was done in the time between birth and arrival in a new land must be confusing. The mahogany wonders if it is thrilling as well. Breckin could imagine any history for herself rather than confine herself to the reality of what her younger days truly were.
Rather than focusing on a potentially upsetting topic, Wishbone offers her newfound friend a gentle smile. “I’m glad you chose Nerine, Breckin.” The spotted mare has truly made a home for herself among the hardy beach grass and even hardier Leviathans. In spending time with her Overseer father, Wishbone was able to identify the differences between lackadaisical members and hardworking members; Breckin will be a valuable, hardworking Leviathan among Nerine.
Yet their conversation is twisting again and Wishbone has always been one to move easily with the tides. “Honestly, not quite. I’ve been given chances to travel all around Beqanna, both with my family and as Khaleesi, but part of me wishes I could travel more freely.” She’s seen nearly every kingdom in their land, and the ones she hasn’t visited she has at least wandered through. Yet to be able to simply leave her home and explore without abandon for days — perhaps even months — on end is not a luxury she can claim.
“I appreciate that, Breckin. Truly.” Wishbone knows the weight of the crown will grow heavy under her head with time; although she is young and lively now, eventually she will become bone-weary and sunken as responsibilities swarm her. To know that she has friends like Breckin who will stand at her shoulder and help carry the weight brings relief to her heart.
Wishbone matches Breckin’s mischievous smile and the expression highlights the lithe, wild features of her mahogany face. Tendrils of her knotted mane drag against one high cheekbone, shielding the color of an amber eye that shines with feelings of amusement and eagerness. “Just about anything. I’d normally go for a quick swim, but I have a feeling you might not like the way the ocean numbs your legs.” She laughs, the sound of her amusement tangling with the rush of the waves many feet below them. “And what of you? We should do something you enjoy.” Whether her Idrilat takes the sentence as a command rather than a suggestion between friends is up to her, but Wishbone means it out of casual friendship.
wishbone
@[Breckin] / this is so late i'm sorry <3