she’s got jumper cable lips
she’s got sunset on her breath. now i inhaled just a little bit, now i’ve got no fear of death
If Tephra or Nerine had been stripped away, lost to the ocean and the destructive forces of the fairies, Wishbone isn’t sure what she would do. The place of her childhood haunts (the warmth of the volcano, the heaviness of the smoke and humidity, the lapping rhythm of the waves on the ashen shores) and the place of her everyday haunts (the strength of the angry waves crashing against the cliffs, the undiscovered nooks and crannies of the caverns, the hush of the breeze through the pine-tree forest) are physical evidences of her comfort. To nestle among the rocky face of the volcano or to toss her nose into the chill of the northern ocean are some of her greatest delights.
If Beqanna were to decide its inhabitants were ungrateful of their homes and simply eradicate them as simply as breathing, the physicality of Wishbone’s life would disappear.
These thoughts bring a deep sorrow into her chest, almost to the point of aching, and Wishbone wonders if Virgo feels the same. The mahogany mare doesn’t offer sympathy or pity to the newcomer though, and none of these dark emotions play in her eyes aside from a slight twitch of her lower lip. Nerine and Tephra are here now, strong and fortifying against the oncoming wrath of Sylva and its members, and Wishbone takes comfort in that fact.
A smile brings fierce warmth to her sunset eyes when Virgo asks her a question. They move deeper into the kingdom, across the plateau, and Wishbone dips her head in brief, albeit sincere, greetings toward each Leviathan they pass. “I love the ocean,” she admits. She’s always loved the ocean, even in Tephra; the waves and the endless rhythm of the tides bring her comfort while the unpredictability of the sea’s mood and the reflection of the weather in its depths sings to the recklessness within herself. “It makes me feel like a piece of Tephra came with me to Nerine.” She certainly misses her childhood land, but Nerine constantly proves itself that it is equally as worthy as a home.
“I could rant about Nerine for days, though.” She laughs now, as spirited and intense as a summertime thunderstorm, and the wind seems to dance across their shoulders and through their manes as if it were laughing with them. They’ve stopped close to the ocean now, perched where the plateau ends and the granite cliff begins. A sudden edge is all that stands between the two mares and the sea below and while the waves on the shore not far down the beach are passive and playful, these waves are agitated and powerful, crashing against the cliffs as if attempting to push them down. “I’ve ran along this stretch of cliff before” — her hooves only inches away from the edge, threatening to push her own body off the side and into the positivity of death — “and I’ve never slipped yet.”
It’s a simple thought, but the husk of Wishbone’s voice hints at the camaraderie of a thought spoken between friends.
wishbone
@[Virgo] / let me know if you want her added to the ranks or not — and where, if you do <3