Ciri
The other kingdoms are only foreign names to her. If she is told of a kingdom, there is no recognition that lights up her face. No scenery to recall or faces to remember. She hears rumors in her travels of whats going on when it comes to politics but she has never cared to listen before. It has never affected her, never mattered or been important. How could it to a vagabond like herself? Her only news came from the songs of birds, from the small groups she found on the sides of roads that warned her of whatever trouble lay before or behind her. Then again, that was before the Underneath.
Now she was residing in Hyaline. Debating on leaving but her heart seems to tear every time she thinks of it. Of the kindness she’s been shown here. Of Amet. But she had never been meant for a quiet life. The stars had made her for other things, to be resilient in the face of oppression or trauma. To be a light in the darkness, she who was made of time and space.
The white puckered scars are all that remains physically of the ordeal from below. There’s still a stain mentally but only time can heal such things. The long wide claw marks that ravaged her shoulder. The smaller ones that decorate her dark hide like the stars scattered in the night sky. Swilring silver iris’s watch over the peaceful lakeside with a swollen heart. Swelling with love and grief alike.
How could she leave this place? How could she stay?
A young stallion, maybe a year or so younger than herself, appears on the horizon. His frame is sturdy, wings are settled neatly on his backside. Lately Hyaline had been blossoming with activity. She liked to think she was the first of many, noticing how quiet it had been when she had been healing by the lake. With her strength finally back to capacity, she stretches her muscles by extending her gait to a rollicking canter. Black limbs striding down the hill as raven tendrils whip about her face and neck, her smokey tail trailed out like a banner behind her.
It’s his eye that makes him slow, catch her breath as he gazes at his reflection in the still waters. The eye of silver, like her own. They do not swirl as her’s do though and the other iris is a fiery orange, reminding her of autumn leaves in the fall. A smile easily finds it’s way to her lips as she walks closer to him. ”Welcome to Hyaline. I’m Ciri.” A pause, unsure of the exact procedure on greeting visitors. ”Are you looking for someone in particular?”
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
@[Castile]