08-03-2019, 08:20 PM
 I can remember a time when I was so afraid when even my shadow wouldn't follow me A cool spring breeze whirls its was through the trees of their home, causing branches overhead to rattle against one another as emerald leaves rustle subtly with the moving currents that carried it with the exciting variety of scents that filled the little riverside valley they called home in such a way that it was neither overwhelming or so faint that it was nonexistent. She could smell the fresh water that constantly changes and flows as it makes its way through the valley where her grandmother had been born. Where Royal Legacy, her great grandfather had ruled with a gentle, but firm hand. And then there was that calming, pure scent that Elaina so associated to Murmuring Rivers that even now when she smelled it the golden girl was immediately transported back. That scent could only be identified as the sweet lavender that grew rampant in the fields. The sights, sounds, and smells that could only be associated with Murmuring Rivers. She moves along at a brisk trot along one of the many trails that her own grandmother once frolicked along that wound and weaved through the tall grasses and aspen trees that encircled the open field of the ancient realm that her blood ran deep within. She catches the sweet and enticing smell of wild raspberries that grew along the water’s edge that sometimes she snack on when Marcelo and Ori were not looking (but, lets be honest, Ori typically joined her in this snacking endeavor.) She pauses a time or two, nose lowered to the ground as lanky golden limbs adorned with a touch of a white sock on each carry her off the trail for a moment only for her to reappear and continue on her own pleasant way. Some would think maybe she was looking for the honeysuckle Marcelo had told her about, but the task at hand was certainly not flower searching. She was hunting. Golden ears twitch and flitter about the top of her head amidst growing locks of cumulus, sunlight warming her sunflower skin in light as it cascaded down, enlighten the ancient lands. Eyes of amber, so much like her father’s, look around every tree, in every shadow cast, and when she spots a bush nearby that seems to be rustling, there is a pause in her forward stride and a silly little grin tugs at the corner of her ash dusted lips. She stands there on the path for a moment, watching the bush with an intensity as though if she stared long enough it might just wave at her. Suddenly, it moves and this time she can just barely make out the smallest, faintest note of laughter. She is hardly able to restrain a chiming giggle yet somehow manages, and suddenly she lunges forward. “Gotcha!” She squeals in a high pitched, girlish voice. She laughs as she collides with a crimson form, playfully reaching out to nip at red strands of her hair. Quickly, she untangles herself from her cousin before pivoting on her heels and playfully taunting her. “Last one to the river has to kiss a fish!” She yells before leaping forward into a wild gallop. The afternoon of the youngest residents of Murmuring Rivers far from over. Their joyous laughter, a sign of their already deep friendship, the afternoon Frostbane had cornered them only plaguing the back of their minds, fills the valley. The day is beautiful. Lilli and Elaina need only each other to keep it so. Probably, if Elaina had not been orphaned, she would wouldn't be much different, her life wouldn't have strayed so far from when she was born. The same way that Lady Macbeth was not quite so sane before she began to hallucinate hands dripping with the blood of the murdered. She would still have been bold and brazen, stubborn beyond belief, imagining this world held secret corners made only for her and her alone. Elaina has been swept up by the tides of politics and swallowed whole with trying to performs the demands of her station. She listens to Kensa and what the others have to say of the lands, learning the ropes and all she can to become the little politician she was destined to become. She likes the weight the responsibilities offer her, it keeps her from becoming restless and worried, brooding over shadows looming in the background, her guilt of leaving. Golden amber eyes watch the forest birds— plain, but striking all the same, glossy black and sleek grays— they peer from their perches with burnished black gem eyes, curios and jabbering they called to the mare-child while she walked down the pathway, a spring in her step as surely as spring had sprung. The green grass beneath her feet yielding to the strumming of her steps. Woven from sunshine and cumulus clouds against the blue skin, as golden as the sunflowers that lift skyward from the ground. With such a mind thrumming with guilt and happiness, Elaina is still gaining her footing in Hyaline. She was no goddess or romancing siren— eyes gleaming with stories and the taste of unfolded adventures on her tongue— but she was just a mortal in this land of those greater than herself. Perhaps it was all in vain than, her attempts to create a life here, but Elaina, steadfast in her determination, she believes she can do it. “Home,” she whispered, slowing to a declining walk until she drew to a standstill, repeating and letting the word settle in her own mind as if saying it constantly would make it truer faster and keep her thoughts (and heart) from wandering elsewhere. “Home,” she says once more with a strong, affirming tone with a smile, wide and winsome, and a tumbling laughter voice. The blonde tests her ability to discern her surroundings, under the new moon she feels blind, tripping over random tree roots that find their way to the surface, but she wants to know this land like the back of her hand. Already she knows so many familiar sights, sounds, and scents— That was different. No. It was entirely all too familiar. Like a magnetic pull, they each draw nearer to the other. She isn't even sure if she is walking at this point, she think she must be floating because she can no longerr feel her feet upon the ground. And then she is there, in front of her, saying her name on her tongue. “Lilli.” The sound breathes into the space between them just as the chestnut reaches her and the palomino closes the gap. For a moment Elaina just stares at her cousin, the soft surprise in her expression interminably with relief and joviality. And then she folds into her, letting herself melt into the warmth of her crimson hide and sighing as though she were small and young and vulnerable for in the embrace of her cousin she is no diplomat, no politician. She is simply Elaina. Then she steps back, just enough to meet her icy blue gaze, head tilting a little so that blonde forelock tumbles into her eyes. “I’m so happy to see you,” she tells her, a cliche thing to say, even if she hadn't needed to say it at all, for it is written so clearly across her face. The birds of the land tweet overhead, a coyote howls in the distance. Perhaps they sensed the emotions that thrummed between the girls and felt it their duty to celebrate. “How are you?” It is such a simple question, but it is what she has always loved most about being with her. With Lilli, everything was made simple again. benjamin and beylani's sunflower-girl |
@[lilliana]