Oriash
they promised that dreams can come true
It is strange to come at his call. It is strange, truthfully, to be old enough to even bother. She is not grown, not entirely, but the gap between childhood and adulthood is rapidly closing. Not that she feels like it. In her mind, she is still a tiny little thing, all fuzz and gangly legs, with her head in the clouds. Some of that is no longer true (the fuzz is gone, her legs and lithe and almost well-sized to her body), though her head remains in the clouds. The clouds, the world of her making, whatever you want to call it, it’s all the same in the end. Reality is a construct Ori does not, and likely will not, entirely grasp. Her control on her power is good, when she is trying to use it, and with more practice and time she would be masterful. Illusions are funny things though, and they creep up on her like shadows, unbidden but not necessarily unwanted.
Some part of her doesn’t mind the blurred line between reality and illusion. This is all she knows though, the world of her own making, and it is beautiful. The winter winds are chilly, but she brightens the area around her, creating light where there is otherwise only the gray sky of winter. The change is subtle but pleasant, something you would certainly notice if looking for it but otherwise might miss entirely. The effect is designed to simply ward off the gloom of winter and nothing more, but sometimes the small and subtle things are the most effective. The best lies are made up of mostly truths, after all.
Ori makes her way to Castile slowly, in no particular rush because these things still have little to do with her, though she has decided that she ought to participate in life. Or at least, she was going to attempt to participate. How this actually panned out for her was yet to be determined. Others gather around her, some of the faces familiar, though most are not. Ori has spent some time getting to know the others, though certainly not enough time. Perhaps she would make an effort to change that, though perhaps not. More often than not her illusions were her usual companions.
Castile begins to speak, and her ears prick in his direction, trying to follow what he’s talking about. The war is familiar enough, though she was on the outskirts of it, it is impossible to forget the maze and the two foals who were hurt by it. It is impossible to forget how it burned around them. The rest she doesn’t understand. Politics she’s had no part in. Politics that maybe, one day, she would care about. Today was not quite that day.
Her interest perks at the mention of the Cove though. Some part of her wanted to see the place again. Why? She didn’t know. Curiosity, mostly. Was Kagerus still there, tucked into the place Ori had left her long ago? Or, unlike Solace, did Kagerus simply not care enough to come find her youngest child? “I can go to the Cove, if you’d like.” she says, adding nothing else. She may be new to this, but she’s not entirely stupid. It would not be strange for her to return to her birth home asking questions. After all, why shouldn’t she care about the place of her birth? It may not be her forever home, but it was her start.
but they forgot that nightmares are dreams too.
Use of mild power playing is allowed; no injuries without permission