Pond
Tears have been known to her since she had awoken in this strange form of a second life. Belgaer had found her crying near the river, afraid and lost with no knowledge of how much time had passed or where her home was. It was Brennen in Ischia who had informed her that the world they’d once known twas gone.
And she cries now, of course, in fear and disgust and horror and sorrow at the sight before her. No… the sight before them.
It only occurs to her now how stolid Vulgaris is as he looks upon such a dreadful thing…. But then again, he is older than her. He is tall and strong, perhaps he has seen this all before. She is still new to this world and unaccustomed to death. She doesn’t want to believe in such things, she doesn’t want anything in this world to end. But she already knows that it does and that is has - Brennen had told her so, Vulgaris is telling her so...
Her parents… they might even be dead. She can only remember small flashes of her life with them now, it had been so brief. They had been so kind to her but their smiles had seemed so fragile...so sad in some way. Looking back now she blinks her eyes sadly, slowly, lashes heavy on her cheekbones. Had they known what was about to come, the Reckoning? Why weren’t they with her now?
The dappled stallion’s lips touch her brow and she is roused from her troubled thoughts. He speaks of his home and then of working, of strength and giving oneself to a cause.
Her brow furrows as she considers it all. The shadowy wings on her shoulders shift a little as if they are fidgeting with her contemplation. Kingdom for hire? Work? Is that the sort of life you desire?
She gasps a sharp breath and holds it. She looks at the pitiful body in front of them again.
“I….” she clenches her jaw again, shuts her eyes. “I don’t want this to happen again,” she finally blurts. “I want to be stronger. I want to stop this!” She looks up to catch that gleam along his jaw, those scales she had admired so greatly when they had first met. To her he seemed like some sort of glimmering knight, some sort of vizier who would guide her on a path to better life that would not lead to such sights as this.
“I know I am strong enough. Tell me what to do.” A thread of her father’s strength suddenly blooms to life within her as she steps slightly back and stands solidly on her own four feet.
And she cries now, of course, in fear and disgust and horror and sorrow at the sight before her. No… the sight before them.
It only occurs to her now how stolid Vulgaris is as he looks upon such a dreadful thing…. But then again, he is older than her. He is tall and strong, perhaps he has seen this all before. She is still new to this world and unaccustomed to death. She doesn’t want to believe in such things, she doesn’t want anything in this world to end. But she already knows that it does and that is has - Brennen had told her so, Vulgaris is telling her so...
Her parents… they might even be dead. She can only remember small flashes of her life with them now, it had been so brief. They had been so kind to her but their smiles had seemed so fragile...so sad in some way. Looking back now she blinks her eyes sadly, slowly, lashes heavy on her cheekbones. Had they known what was about to come, the Reckoning? Why weren’t they with her now?
The dappled stallion’s lips touch her brow and she is roused from her troubled thoughts. He speaks of his home and then of working, of strength and giving oneself to a cause.
Her brow furrows as she considers it all. The shadowy wings on her shoulders shift a little as if they are fidgeting with her contemplation. Kingdom for hire? Work? Is that the sort of life you desire?
She gasps a sharp breath and holds it. She looks at the pitiful body in front of them again.
“I….” she clenches her jaw again, shuts her eyes. “I don’t want this to happen again,” she finally blurts. “I want to be stronger. I want to stop this!” She looks up to catch that gleam along his jaw, those scales she had admired so greatly when they had first met. To her he seemed like some sort of glimmering knight, some sort of vizier who would guide her on a path to better life that would not lead to such sights as this.
“I know I am strong enough. Tell me what to do.” A thread of her father’s strength suddenly blooms to life within her as she steps slightly back and stands solidly on her own four feet.
@[vulgaris]