01-05-2021, 12:51 AM
take my soul & make it undone
be the one, be the one to take me home and show me the sun. i know, i know you can bring the fire, i can bring the bones. i know, i know you'll make the fire, my bones will make it grow.
There had been a point in time where Wishbone had felt unique — where the world only had one dancing, reckless girl to focus on. As if she were the brightest star in the sky, burning so brilliantly the rest of the galaxy was forced to dim their lights. At first she had relished in this feeling, in being the only one of her kind. She had yet to meet another child who paralleled her courage and this was something she took pride in.
As the years moved on, she grew lonely beneath her bright glow. Wishbone felt the isolation that came with being the only one, of always taking the dangerous road while the rest chose the safer path. Life has always involved community — from the pack of wolves to the trees in a forest — and connections pull these relationships together. Her wandering heart has had a difficult time finding another soul to cling to, someone who is similar to her in spirit. Perhaps this is why she remains close to Svedka, even now. Her older brother is a kindred soul, filled with zeal for the world and a passion for adventure (though they have both matured and fallen rather sullen beneath the weight of reality).
And when Lilliana says, “If you think I can keep up,” Wishbone feels a connection knot the two women together. The dark mare can sense an explorer’s heart beneath the soft glow of Lilliana’s blue eyes and it brings a wild smile to her gold mouth. “I’m sure you can.” Her voice is amused as she steps forward, mindlessly following the trail ahead of them. Her mind has always retained the map of Tephra and she can clearly see the route they will take to reach the volcano’s foothills in her mind’s eye.
“I would really appreciate that, Lilliana.” Wishbone wonders if the red mare can see past her and into the bones that once felt foreign and unnatural (which now feel as though they are hers, finally). Can she search past her present thoughts and read into the chapters of her life? Does she know that Wishbone has been absent from the North and its obstacles, that she has paced the walls of the Afterlife until the gates broke upon and she forced herself into Life? Beqanna’s magic is unfathomable to the onyx mare; their world gives and takes away and she is curious if Lilliana can scan through her mind to pick out the important pieces. If such a thing were possible, Wishbone would certainly allow her — she has always been an open book — and so she lets down the barriers of her mind to allow her new friend to roam where she may wish.
When the trail splits, her long legs move toward the narrower path to the left. Wishbone picks up the history of her home (or what she knows of it) with ease, as if she has always recited the story of her ancestors. She explains how Offspring, Eight, Malis, and Magnus petitioned for Tephra, the way the kingdom switched between leaders, and the relative quiet that has brought peace to Tephra so far. Wishbone’s voice falls quiet eerily earlier than it might have otherwise, and it is not because the ground slopes upwards to meet the beginnings of the volcano’s foothills.
She doesn’t know what happened to Tephra after she left Breckin Nerine’s throne — nor does she know of the roles and wars it went through in the time between Warrick and Warden. Her eyes might flash with annoyance; she has fallen behind on the history of her birth-home or even the recent goings-on of Beqanna. With a quick flick of her dark, tangled tail to rid her mind of these thoughts, Wishbone says, “So what about the North?”
As the years moved on, she grew lonely beneath her bright glow. Wishbone felt the isolation that came with being the only one, of always taking the dangerous road while the rest chose the safer path. Life has always involved community — from the pack of wolves to the trees in a forest — and connections pull these relationships together. Her wandering heart has had a difficult time finding another soul to cling to, someone who is similar to her in spirit. Perhaps this is why she remains close to Svedka, even now. Her older brother is a kindred soul, filled with zeal for the world and a passion for adventure (though they have both matured and fallen rather sullen beneath the weight of reality).
And when Lilliana says, “If you think I can keep up,” Wishbone feels a connection knot the two women together. The dark mare can sense an explorer’s heart beneath the soft glow of Lilliana’s blue eyes and it brings a wild smile to her gold mouth. “I’m sure you can.” Her voice is amused as she steps forward, mindlessly following the trail ahead of them. Her mind has always retained the map of Tephra and she can clearly see the route they will take to reach the volcano’s foothills in her mind’s eye.
“I would really appreciate that, Lilliana.” Wishbone wonders if the red mare can see past her and into the bones that once felt foreign and unnatural (which now feel as though they are hers, finally). Can she search past her present thoughts and read into the chapters of her life? Does she know that Wishbone has been absent from the North and its obstacles, that she has paced the walls of the Afterlife until the gates broke upon and she forced herself into Life? Beqanna’s magic is unfathomable to the onyx mare; their world gives and takes away and she is curious if Lilliana can scan through her mind to pick out the important pieces. If such a thing were possible, Wishbone would certainly allow her — she has always been an open book — and so she lets down the barriers of her mind to allow her new friend to roam where she may wish.
When the trail splits, her long legs move toward the narrower path to the left. Wishbone picks up the history of her home (or what she knows of it) with ease, as if she has always recited the story of her ancestors. She explains how Offspring, Eight, Malis, and Magnus petitioned for Tephra, the way the kingdom switched between leaders, and the relative quiet that has brought peace to Tephra so far. Wishbone’s voice falls quiet eerily earlier than it might have otherwise, and it is not because the ground slopes upwards to meet the beginnings of the volcano’s foothills.
She doesn’t know what happened to Tephra after she left Breckin Nerine’s throne — nor does she know of the roles and wars it went through in the time between Warrick and Warden. Her eyes might flash with annoyance; she has fallen behind on the history of her birth-home or even the recent goings-on of Beqanna. With a quick flick of her dark, tangled tail to rid her mind of these thoughts, Wishbone says, “So what about the North?”
@[lilliana]