it's a guarantee that he won't forget me.
my body little, my soul heavy.
Naia’s ears swivel round at the scorched sound of her grandmother’s laugh. Her head tilts to the right just a bit, delighted that their sounds are so similar. The indignation and ultimate companionship that radiates from the hairless woman wraps warm, familiar arms around the appaloosa. She knows the heat of anger, of pain; she may not understand its full extent, but she can appreciate its vibe as its expelled.
The bitter flavor of Scorch’s words draw a smile across her granddaughter’s face. Sure, she has not given her father much of a chance, but he is constantly preoccupied. It is hard for Naia to not feel entirely out of place amongst the bustle of a busy kingdom (and a father that helps lead said bustle).
As her grandmother’s eyes drift to the ocean, Naia’s own pass slowly over the gray and pink planes of Scorch’s skin. She studies the colors as they blend together upon gentle curves and sharp bones. The muscles that ripple are impressive, calling to her in a way only admiration and role models can. Yet another smile stretches her lips at the term “chaos girl,” softening the edges of her glazed eyes.
Both now stare into the crash of the ocean, blood and brood binding their silence over and over again.
“If I am chaos girl, you are chaos woman,” Naia murmurs, offering a glittering glance spelling mischief. “I suppose we have that in common. Why aren’t you in Nerine today?”
She longs to feel the burden of another, to forget the childish pangs she cannot relieve.
@[Scorch]