05-02-2021, 03:43 PM
You think I'll be the Dark Sky so you can be the Star?
I'll Swallow you Whole.
I'll Swallow you Whole.
Someone comes, as she had expected they would. The residents here are predictable; none of them seem to like to be alone, even the vagabonds. Rarely did she ever have to seek out company, since it always seemed to come to her, no matter how still she stood or seemingly uninteresting she was in the moment. In the beginning, it had always been those with an affinity for the stars that were drawn to her—Astrophel, Ten, Shipka, and even Morrowind, though she does not think he cared much for stars, only that she was not mortal, like him.
But oddly enough, it was not the stars or anything cosmic that she found interesting in others. It was emotions that lured her from the dark—those slippery things that she never could quite grasp no matter how she tried. It was why thoughts of Tiercel stuck with her for so long, even when years stretched between their early meetings. It was why she approached Set as he trembled and seethed with an anger she could never fathom, with a curiosity that was so unlike her.
She still has never known a fury quite like that, but she is not entirely the hollow, vacant space she had once been. She had missed Tiercel when he was gone, and she loved Kamaria without the emotion having to be planted by anyone else. When she had first felt the fluttering of new life once again growing inside of her, her pulse had raced with an anxious excitement that blossomed on its own accord. Her emotions, muted though they are, were finally beginning to take root on their own, though it did little to brighten the endless dark of her eyes, or the sharp angles of her face.
When she turns those purple-black eyes to find the source of the voice there is little to be read in them, or her face. She sweeps her eyes across the scarred body of the mare, lets her gaze linger on the stars that orbit her, but her expression remains unreadable. “I used to be,” she answers her, the silver threads of her voice brightening it from what would have otherwise been a monotonous tone. “I’m just Islas, now,” she says with a ghost of a smile flickering at the edge of her white lips, looking again to the stars that float around her. Without turning her eyes from the stranger she calls down her own starlight, pulling several thin ribbons of it and spinning each into individual stars that flicker and shimmer around her, nearly matching hers. “Who are you?”
But oddly enough, it was not the stars or anything cosmic that she found interesting in others. It was emotions that lured her from the dark—those slippery things that she never could quite grasp no matter how she tried. It was why thoughts of Tiercel stuck with her for so long, even when years stretched between their early meetings. It was why she approached Set as he trembled and seethed with an anger she could never fathom, with a curiosity that was so unlike her.
She still has never known a fury quite like that, but she is not entirely the hollow, vacant space she had once been. She had missed Tiercel when he was gone, and she loved Kamaria without the emotion having to be planted by anyone else. When she had first felt the fluttering of new life once again growing inside of her, her pulse had raced with an anxious excitement that blossomed on its own accord. Her emotions, muted though they are, were finally beginning to take root on their own, though it did little to brighten the endless dark of her eyes, or the sharp angles of her face.
When she turns those purple-black eyes to find the source of the voice there is little to be read in them, or her face. She sweeps her eyes across the scarred body of the mare, lets her gaze linger on the stars that orbit her, but her expression remains unreadable. “I used to be,” she answers her, the silver threads of her voice brightening it from what would have otherwise been a monotonous tone. “I’m just Islas, now,” she says with a ghost of a smile flickering at the edge of her white lips, looking again to the stars that float around her. Without turning her eyes from the stranger she calls down her own starlight, pulling several thin ribbons of it and spinning each into individual stars that flicker and shimmer around her, nearly matching hers. “Who are you?”
Islas
@[Ciri]