06-03-2015, 02:36 PM
 kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep Pumpkin eyes blinked momentarily; she's in a vivid daydream, darkness creeping on her, shadows dancing across the blackening skies. There are many in the field this evening, but they all have strangely blank faces. Lye's eyes squint, they blink and everything is back to normal. The black mare had spent far too long on her own; the mind is a fragile thing and left untouched and lonely, it often turned into something quite dangerous. She was worried she was on the verge of becoming the coldness that her sister was displaying. When she left her in the meadow talking to Lagertha, she was certain that the blue roan mare had lost any slither of hope within her. Where as Lye, her little soul within was clutching onto the last thorny stems of hope. Her fragile little fingers bloodied and scarred from holding on so dear to that last shred of hope. This was her last chance, her first journey into the world outside of the beach, to interact, to find someone, something that will make her whole, something that will colour her very grey world. And then she sees him. He's like a golden sunrise, shifting along the grass; wings adorn him and at first she squints her eyes tight. She's no stranger to mythical traits, her sister was winged, and she herself was cursed, blessed, one might even call it an amazing hand in time, but Lye still found being immortal was far more of a burden than most. It made your loneliness that much longer to bear. He smiles and the black mare feels knots loosen within her shoulders. Sinewy springs beneath her ebony skin unravel. A smile. All it takes is a small smile and she remembers she's in the realm of the living. No ghosts wander here, no lost souls. And the buckskin steed with glorious wings was something of flesh and bone, of beating heart and rushing blood. "Cezary. Hello." Lye speaks, her voice a crackle, static in the crisp air. "I'm Lye, Pois--" she stops. mentally retracts what she was about to say. Poison. She was poison, a demon's kiss, unwanted, grey. She must stop introducing herself with such dissatisfying titles. She was simply, Lye. Her unkempt mane ruffled in the breeze, knotted in ringlets over her orange eyes as she met his warm gaze. "Can you run from the past? I think I've tried." she pauses, takes a few steps forward and extends her nose towards the stranger. "It doesn't work too well." |