06-01-2018, 02:56 PM
haze like a fever
i fell like a dreamer for sweet tea and lemonade; it clings to my t-shirt it’s loud and it lingers, designed to suffocate. i light up to find what i’ve known all this time, there’s some beauty here yet
The sun rests upon her back like a heavy, drowsy cat. The light catches on the highlight of her hair, dipping her in shades of faint gold to contrast her mahogany body. When she passes beneath the extending arms of a tree, the cat disappears like a ghost and a blanket of cold drapes itself across her shoulders and along her spine. The length of her legs are doused in shadow, moving at a slender walk that brings her into the Field.
Wishbone has been here before. It was in her childhood, nestled alongside her busy mother, and it hadn’t been the first time she’d traveled past the borders of Tephra. Entering the clearing gives Wishbone a nostalgic feeling deep in her stomach, one that travels into the linings of her mouth, although she arrives from a different entrance than she had as a child. Her sunset gaze turns briefly toward the trail leading toward Tephra, where the scents of sulfur and brine and ash ride faintly on a spring breeze.
She isn’t here to adventure back to her parents, but rather to seek out any potential candidates for Nerine’s lifestyle. She moves easily, healed from any previous mocks she’s had with Scorch, as she walks deeper into the Field. Her amber eyes scan the landscape once more, landing on a leggy child floundering around his mother, asking so many questions Wishbone wonders if his lips might fall off.
Her heart doesn’t long for her own offspring, still being in her youth, but she cannot help but smile fondly as the mother shoots her an apologetic look. It isn’t long after that Wishbone spots a gray mare with unique barbs jutting along the length of her spine. It isn’t so much the fact that the stranger is a mare that draws the Nerinian to her, but rather the interesting display of weaponry.
“Were you born with those?” Her voice is honey-whiskey riding on the springtime breeze, feminine and sweet in her youth but layered with the smoke-and-shadow from a childhood spent on Tephra’s shoreline. She’s stopped a reasonable distance away — manners instilled in her from both of her parents. Wishbone’s sable nose extends forward curiously, her amber eyes searching the other mare’s gray face. “I’m Wishbone.”
Wishbone has been here before. It was in her childhood, nestled alongside her busy mother, and it hadn’t been the first time she’d traveled past the borders of Tephra. Entering the clearing gives Wishbone a nostalgic feeling deep in her stomach, one that travels into the linings of her mouth, although she arrives from a different entrance than she had as a child. Her sunset gaze turns briefly toward the trail leading toward Tephra, where the scents of sulfur and brine and ash ride faintly on a spring breeze.
She isn’t here to adventure back to her parents, but rather to seek out any potential candidates for Nerine’s lifestyle. She moves easily, healed from any previous mocks she’s had with Scorch, as she walks deeper into the Field. Her amber eyes scan the landscape once more, landing on a leggy child floundering around his mother, asking so many questions Wishbone wonders if his lips might fall off.
Her heart doesn’t long for her own offspring, still being in her youth, but she cannot help but smile fondly as the mother shoots her an apologetic look. It isn’t long after that Wishbone spots a gray mare with unique barbs jutting along the length of her spine. It isn’t so much the fact that the stranger is a mare that draws the Nerinian to her, but rather the interesting display of weaponry.
“Were you born with those?” Her voice is honey-whiskey riding on the springtime breeze, feminine and sweet in her youth but layered with the smoke-and-shadow from a childhood spent on Tephra’s shoreline. She’s stopped a reasonable distance away — manners instilled in her from both of her parents. Wishbone’s sable nose extends forward curiously, her amber eyes searching the other mare’s gray face. “I’m Wishbone.”
@[Virgo]