i'm a geyser, feel it bubbling from below
hear it call, hear it call, hear it call to me, constantly
Brunhilde no longer feels as fierce as she once did. Her heart was once made by gasoline, and now it is merely tumbleweeds. She watches, idly, as cars come and go down her dusty desert highway, golden eyes twinkling like fallen stars. One could pluck her directly from a wildfire, but if you ask her she will probably say she feels more like a passing breeze.
A bit of a brat, and driven by crude intentions, the young woman wanders as if she will never find contentment. There are those that settle, and those that thrive, and then there are those that remain in constant limbo. Like her father, how pitiably like her father - all this lust for nothing, all this discontent refusing to be tamed. She thinks she can make something of herself, if only someone would take notice; alas, she remains engulfed in the shadows of Loess, only tumbling into the Common Lands to spy on those that do not matter.
The two that entwine themselves between the trunks of the forest almost go unnoticed. The little flame pauses, clear eyes glinting with a cold curiosity. This is what she does best: observe the suffering of interaction instead of forcing herself into it. She was once outgoing, boisterous, even venomous. That little snake lives within her, now, furious and scratching at the coffin she is buried so deeply in.
A muttered hello catches her ears and swivels her head around a tree to get a better look at the pair. She is so enraptured by their combined beauty that she does not think how she glows will announce her presence. The antlered stallion is so wild and fierce, she imagines him upon the edge of a cliff; and the pale woman has cruelty in her stance that it so harsh it’s mesmerizing. Brun blinks, finally noting how the area around his is dimly illuminated. She sighs.
“Hi,” she utters when she approaches, reproachful eyes flitting between the pair. If she admired them a moment before, they will not know by meeting her gaze.
“What a sullen trio we make.”
and hear the harmony only when it's harming me
it's not real, it's not real, it's not real enough
