you've got to move slowly, take and eat my body like it's holy.
She hasn’t spoken to anyone in so long she’s almost forgotten the sound of her own voice. Sabbath tried to carve some semblance of happiness in Pangea with Eight and yet she felt more lost than ever. So she began to wander until all she felt was emptiness. Her mane hangs ink black over her graying face and obscures her view as she weaves in between the trees and over the underbrush around her. Little red dapples are just beginning to reveal themselves along the full curve of her hips and strong, slender shoulders. She’s got her father’s strong eyes and her mother’s delicate jawline, the high cheek bones of a proud family.
And yet no one knows quite where her little spiral horn came from. It shimmers silver-green from her lovely face and occasionally serves to push a low hanging twig from her. Her father had said once that he doesn’t remember anyone else in his family carrying such a thing but he used to kiss just beside it before she fell asleep at night. She misses falling asleep curled to her mother’s side while Adna slept on the other.
A slow sigh shudders from her lungs as a twig snaps beneath the weight of her small hoof. The sound pulls her from her thoughts just enough to notice the pale boy approaching her now. He is all perfect white and crystal eyes that make her suck her breath right back in when they meet the sage green of her own. Beneath the orange shade of the autumn trees, he is glowing white in spite of the shade. Sabbath takes a step back without even realizing it. Aegean. He looks like something out of a fairy tale, some perfect prince come to rescue the damsel from her plight.
But she wants to be her own knight in shining armor.
She wants to pluck herself from this tangled mess of a life that keeps her tethered with night terrors and rabid hunts.
“I’m Sabbath. Are you a ghost?” she asks, blinking to make sure exhaustion isn’t just fooling her into this vision. The ethereal boy remains in place, of course, and she wonders if he’s anything like the magician she met before. Will he be beautiful and cruel like so many others? Marvelous boys with their perfect faces have become something of a warning to her now and so she bristles a little at the thought.
And yet no one knows quite where her little spiral horn came from. It shimmers silver-green from her lovely face and occasionally serves to push a low hanging twig from her. Her father had said once that he doesn’t remember anyone else in his family carrying such a thing but he used to kiss just beside it before she fell asleep at night. She misses falling asleep curled to her mother’s side while Adna slept on the other.
A slow sigh shudders from her lungs as a twig snaps beneath the weight of her small hoof. The sound pulls her from her thoughts just enough to notice the pale boy approaching her now. He is all perfect white and crystal eyes that make her suck her breath right back in when they meet the sage green of her own. Beneath the orange shade of the autumn trees, he is glowing white in spite of the shade. Sabbath takes a step back without even realizing it. Aegean. He looks like something out of a fairy tale, some perfect prince come to rescue the damsel from her plight.
But she wants to be her own knight in shining armor.
She wants to pluck herself from this tangled mess of a life that keeps her tethered with night terrors and rabid hunts.
“I’m Sabbath. Are you a ghost?” she asks, blinking to make sure exhaustion isn’t just fooling her into this vision. The ethereal boy remains in place, of course, and she wonders if he’s anything like the magician she met before. Will he be beautiful and cruel like so many others? Marvelous boys with their perfect faces have become something of a warning to her now and so she bristles a little at the thought.
@[aegean]