03-06-2019, 12:54 AM
ryatah
hell is empty and all the devils are here
To many, Tephra was a safe haven. It was why she had selected it, so that her children had a place to grow without the risk of falling ill. Unfortunately, her children were similar to her; none of them seemed to care much for the offer of safety and protection. She cannot fault them for it, when it was her own shortcoming. She tried to keep them safe; she tried to remain focused and keep herself from straying even further than she already had. But not even they — her beautiful jewel-colored Evenstar, her vivacious Casimira, and her handsome Cassian — were enough to anchor her down anymore.
But, she always came back. Always subtly changed in some way, but she comes back.
It doesn’t feel like home, but it is the closest thing she has. She’s never been very good at keeping things — especially nothing that was stable and reliable, and Tephra is no different. She comes back to it, though, as she does with most of her things, because she always will until she is told she can’t anymore.
She does not recognize the roan colored mare as she comes into sight, and a flicker of curiosity sparks in her dark eyes. She was accustomed to everyone being a stranger; there were so few left that she knew. Apart of her was tired of it. Tired of feeling aimless, tired of feeling forgotten. A larger part of her wanted nothing more than to turn to dust and complete the process of disappearing. But she is soft enough as she approaches, with her lips lifting into a wisp of a smile. “You’re not from Tephra,” She states plainly. She does not know who she is, only that she smells of the sea — and if it evokes a peculiar stirring in her chest, she artfully suppresses it. “I’m Ryatah.”
But, she always came back. Always subtly changed in some way, but she comes back.
It doesn’t feel like home, but it is the closest thing she has. She’s never been very good at keeping things — especially nothing that was stable and reliable, and Tephra is no different. She comes back to it, though, as she does with most of her things, because she always will until she is told she can’t anymore.
She does not recognize the roan colored mare as she comes into sight, and a flicker of curiosity sparks in her dark eyes. She was accustomed to everyone being a stranger; there were so few left that she knew. Apart of her was tired of it. Tired of feeling aimless, tired of feeling forgotten. A larger part of her wanted nothing more than to turn to dust and complete the process of disappearing. But she is soft enough as she approaches, with her lips lifting into a wisp of a smile. “You’re not from Tephra,” She states plainly. She does not know who she is, only that she smells of the sea — and if it evokes a peculiar stirring in her chest, she artfully suppresses it. “I’m Ryatah.”
@[Heartfire]
Hi they will be best friends now, thank you