we're all living in a devil town -- ᴀɴʏ

[Starsin]

lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me, do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?

She knows nothing of the Beqanna of the past. Has never heard of the kingdoms that her parents and grandparents would have made their own, has hardly even heard their own names, for that matter (the magic stallion could hardly be considered an actual father – she’s never even heard her mother utter his name – and her mother had spent more time avoiding her daughter than taking care of her). She only knows this version, and hardly does she even know of a life without the plague. She carries it inside of her, it courses in her veins and radiates from her pores, but she doesn’t feel it. If she had known, she would have kept away from Ophanim; she wouldn’t risk knowingly harming the only thing she cared about.

She is young – incredibly so, just nearing two years old. But she had outgrown the awkward stage long ago, and she steps easily along the riverside with slender legs, the cold winter light washing across her star-studded body. She was not good at keeping company, no matter how pleasant they were. Ophanim was burrowing himself too far inside, and she kept him at arm's length because of it. Vadar was sweet, but she didn't do well with nice things. She had to find something else to abate her odd desires. With a single sweep of her surroundings, her cobalt-colored eyes settle on a dark stallion. She stands, an inquisitive tilt of her delicate head, and she simply watches him for a moment. Debating.

Finally, she moves forward, audacious and without hesitation, coming to rest alongside of him. ”Hi,” A single syllable, rolling like a saccharine purr, before following with, ”Mind if I join you?”

Here, enjoy my trash.

@[Eight]