04-26-2020, 11:56 AM
Quietude
Whisper.
The demand hisses out and the yearling bristles underneath it, feeling gall rise in her throat. It stops her in her tracks, a frown on her face, wings lifted slightly away from her dark sides with the quiet, shuffling whisper of feather brushing feather. She peers at the other curiously, then around at their surroundings. There is a softening of the noise around them. The wind in the grass grows silent, the birdsong barely more than a memory, though they flit and flutter and stain the skies with their false starts at migration.
"Why?"
Her own demand is not a whisper at all, but it sounds as dull as the muted birdsong around them, and without waiting for an answer she drops her head to the water and drinks from the still, cold pond. The chill on her lips makes her snort and wrinkle her nose, makes her ponder the splashed mare's interest in wading into it, but she drinks her fill and lifts her dripping muzzle away again from the water to find the stranger's purple gaze.
"Why should I whisper? I don't want to."
There is a childish petulance in her voice that doesn't match what sounds like easy compliance to the request, but Quietude has been too much on her own, abandoned young and left with only her brother to teach her manners. Which, of course, he couldn't do when it was so easy to silence him. She might smirk at the memory but it seems inappropriate just now, out of context.
"What would happen if I didn't?"
The demand hisses out and the yearling bristles underneath it, feeling gall rise in her throat. It stops her in her tracks, a frown on her face, wings lifted slightly away from her dark sides with the quiet, shuffling whisper of feather brushing feather. She peers at the other curiously, then around at their surroundings. There is a softening of the noise around them. The wind in the grass grows silent, the birdsong barely more than a memory, though they flit and flutter and stain the skies with their false starts at migration.
"Why?"
Her own demand is not a whisper at all, but it sounds as dull as the muted birdsong around them, and without waiting for an answer she drops her head to the water and drinks from the still, cold pond. The chill on her lips makes her snort and wrinkle her nose, makes her ponder the splashed mare's interest in wading into it, but she drinks her fill and lifts her dripping muzzle away again from the water to find the stranger's purple gaze.
"Why should I whisper? I don't want to."
There is a childish petulance in her voice that doesn't match what sounds like easy compliance to the request, but Quietude has been too much on her own, abandoned young and left with only her brother to teach her manners. Which, of course, he couldn't do when it was so easy to silence him. She might smirk at the memory but it seems inappropriate just now, out of context.
"What would happen if I didn't?"
drowned out by the sound of your heartbeat
@[Xi]