08-30-2020, 01:13 AM
someone will love you but someone isn't me --
She sees the panther as he slips from the darkness, and out of habit, she calls upon her familiar, cold shield. The invisible frosted threads weave their way around her, though the stillness of her face gives nothing away of the caution she harbors. She is not afraid of him, but she is guarded. Her fascination for magic has not faded as she grew older, but she has learned that it could negatively affect her.
If she had been a little warier when she was younger, she would still have all of her memories, she thinks.
And still, somehow, she does not regret her time with Ivar. She does not regret learning what it meant to live with the kelpies, raise her own kelpie son, and see how he grew. She only regrets that it came at a price, that she lost so much of herself along the way.
He shifts, from panther to stallion, and it is with a quiet kind of delight that she smiles, and her shield lowers. “You’re a shifter,” she comments, with a sweetened rasp to her voice; she so rarely spoke anymore, unless it was to her youngest. More often than not, she was alone now, and maybe that is why she does not hesitate to step close to him – she was not used to being alone, not anymore.
Or perhaps it is the way his wild mane frames such a handsome face that draws her in, and why she cannot seem to turn her eyes from him. “I always wanted something more…exciting than a frost aura.” The words surprise her because she speaks them so easily. She doesn’t remember ever wishing to have something besides frost aura before, and yet she had said it with such confidence that it makes her wonder what memory that wish was locked away inside.
She can feel the anxiety begin to tighten inside of her chest, but she quickly ushers it away. Her memories - or lack of them, rather - could wait another day.
“The quiet,” she answers his question with a slow, secretive smile. “Although I don’t mind the company, either.”
She sees the panther as he slips from the darkness, and out of habit, she calls upon her familiar, cold shield. The invisible frosted threads weave their way around her, though the stillness of her face gives nothing away of the caution she harbors. She is not afraid of him, but she is guarded. Her fascination for magic has not faded as she grew older, but she has learned that it could negatively affect her.
If she had been a little warier when she was younger, she would still have all of her memories, she thinks.
And still, somehow, she does not regret her time with Ivar. She does not regret learning what it meant to live with the kelpies, raise her own kelpie son, and see how he grew. She only regrets that it came at a price, that she lost so much of herself along the way.
He shifts, from panther to stallion, and it is with a quiet kind of delight that she smiles, and her shield lowers. “You’re a shifter,” she comments, with a sweetened rasp to her voice; she so rarely spoke anymore, unless it was to her youngest. More often than not, she was alone now, and maybe that is why she does not hesitate to step close to him – she was not used to being alone, not anymore.
Or perhaps it is the way his wild mane frames such a handsome face that draws her in, and why she cannot seem to turn her eyes from him. “I always wanted something more…exciting than a frost aura.” The words surprise her because she speaks them so easily. She doesn’t remember ever wishing to have something besides frost aura before, and yet she had said it with such confidence that it makes her wonder what memory that wish was locked away inside.
She can feel the anxiety begin to tighten inside of her chest, but she quickly ushers it away. Her memories - or lack of them, rather - could wait another day.
“The quiet,” she answers his question with a slow, secretive smile. “Although I don’t mind the company, either.”
-- C H R Y S E I S