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
Wishbone doesn’t doubt her friend’s hesitancy. Although fear is a concept that doesn’t frequent her mind, the mahogany mare knows that it can paralyze others. The slippery, cold ink of dread sliding into her stomach is a feeling Wishbone often translates into adrenaline and a fierce desire to run toward that which bleeds the dread. Her life is lived in vibrant shades of color and none of them include the requirement of shying away from what frightens her.
The ocean has always been a mystery to Wishbone (mysteries — the things of the world that grip with a fervent, shadowy hold and tantalize while dragging jagged teeth against throats — are often creatures that ignite distress in tender hearts). Although she has known it and swam in it and thrived in it her entire life, the Khaleesi would never claim to completely understand it. She can comprehend the shifting of the tides and the bitter taste of the salt on her lips and the familiar way the currents brush against her legs, but there are depths that will always be foreign to her.
She has some faint ideas of what lurks in those dark shadows. Wishbone spent one long day trying to desperately reach the humpback whales that lingered just outside Tephra’s shallows, but her mahogany body had never been able to swim among their woeful songs. She’s also watched a pod of orcas — large, dark bodies sliding easily through the frigid waters — mercilessly hunt down a young, slick-bodied seal who had gotten separated from its mother. Among her more private memories the shape of a suave, dangerous kelpie comes to mind, fanged mouth gliding against the curve of her neck and leaving a trail of blood behind it.
The queen smirks to herself at this last thought, nearly losing herself in the moonlight-soaked memory before reminding herself she must give a mature answer to Virgo. “I have some ideas.” She decides on this vague, albeit responsible, response before dragging the conversation away from her humid thoughts and toward a different secret. A sincere smile alights her face when Virgo replies with her own private memory.
Wishbone is beginning to think there is much, much more that lies beneath the gray mare’s barbed spine than what she initially tells. “Was Eerie your mother?” In the moments between the foal exchange and her rise to queenship, Scorch had taught her charge to memorize the previous queens of the Amazons and the Leviathans. The mahogany can faintly remember the name Eerie tossed among the list of powerful Khaleesi’s in the past.
To have a daughter of a Khaleesi of the Old back among the Leviathans is impressive and brings pride to warm Wishbone’s reckless heart. She takes a few steps away from the edge of the granite cliff, feeling another breeze sweep over their shoulders. Her amber eyes turn toward Virgo at her side, a soft smile dancing across her lips faintly.
wishbone
@[Virgo] / sorry this took me so long <3