[open] Crowns of flowers on our heads; a n y

[Castile]

An old soul with young eyes, a vintage heart, and a beautiful mind Cyprin’s fascination climbs to greater heights when she notes the wisdom in the girl’s voice. It’s delicate and pure like youth, but the undertone indicates that she has seen so much in this vast world. Briella, she offers, and the gunmetal child regards her with brightened eyes. A tale quickly follows, and although it is brief, it is captivating. A fascinated hum vibrates through Cyprin’s body, her expression betraying her piqued interest and mild concern. ”A plague?” It sounds so familiar; perhaps it was once part of a bedtime story that mother whispered into the cool night until sleep lulled the girl into silence. ”Was it scary?” She assumes so, but it’s difficult to look across the cliffs and hills to picture a withering world where everyone coughed blood and trembled with exertion. A question often surfaced when Cyprin tried to picture it in her mind: would she have survived? But she doesn’t recall the thoughts now. Her conversation is far too uplifting to be weighed down by inconceivable worries. Inclining her head, she mulls over the question while her eyes roam across the landscape in contemplation. ”I’m afraid I do not know of Dovev,” her pretty face creases into a frown for a fleeting moment until recognition lifts her from uncertainty, ”but Wolfbane is familiar. He is the King’s Champion.” Although she has never met him, his name still carries significance. Conversations drift with the breeze only to be caught and heard by those listening. Cyprin cannot help to eavesdrop, truthfully. ”He took over Taiga, but still frequents here as well.” A friend, she recalls her brother suggesting. Wolfbane is a friend. Unfortunately, Cyprin does not yet know the intricacies of friendship as she has remained secluded in the confines of the family’s cave. It must involve complimenting, however, because she is still elated by Brielle’s opinion of her name. It’s a warm feeling that spreads across her like a blanket when her eyes level onto winter’s daughter. ”There is no need to apologize. I love hearing about your life and friends so far. Tell me more,” she takes pause as her head tilts inquisitively, ”Tell me about the other world.” Cyprin lior and nayl

picture by Jiamin Zhu on pinterest


@[Briella]