you set my soul alight

[Kirke]

peel away the layers till you're nothing and no one

She wishes there was something she could do to help her gain favour in her Father’s eyes.

To any other father she would be a pride and joy - a beautiful young purple and lavender filly, with a rare set of colourful wings. But here in the Cove … she is not quite enough. She is enough that she is not a disappointment of course - how could she be - but compared to her sister she will always be a sad second.

Potion’s power is something incredible, something very, very useful, and all Kirke has is … wings. Not completely useless to be sure (her Father has wings too after all), but in comparison to Potion? She’s really not very impressive.

It’s frustrating to her. The abilities she possesses are not something she can control and, unless some faerie takes pity on her some day, there is no way that she will be able to change and gain any more power.

So for the moment, the best she can do is practice.

Kirke soars with the breezes, dipping and rolling and practicing daring manoeuvres until her wings begin to ache. She will never be as special as Potion, but she can at least be the best at what she can do.

She needs rest for the moment though, and begins to dip back towards land. Her wings relax gratefully into descent, but as she approaches the ground an interesting sight catches her brown eyes.

A young colt, the same age as the twins, stands in the sand, staring out to sea in wonder. As she watches, an obviously injured gull wobbles by the colt, dragging its wing in the sand. She almost expects him to stomp on it (as many of Khaos’ children would do), but much to her surprise and wonder, the bird suddenly flies off as if it had never been injured. How very interesting …

Kirke leans into a dive and pulls up at the last moment, alighting with surprising grace upon the sand. She eyes him for a moment, considering. He does not have any of the purple that would mark him as a child of her Father’s, and he has a strong smell of somewhere other than the Cove. He must be one of the horses captured on the children’s most recent journey to the Gates.

But really, that’s not what interests her.

She takes a few steps towards the younger boy, fixing him with an openly curious stare. “How did you do that?”

kirke