04-08-2023, 03:59 PM
Was she asking him of blessings, the bane that scourged an immortal pestilence or was she asking herself? She tries to imagine herself inside his perspective, though it seems impossible, she easily slips through the cracks of the possibility. To be inside the same body, same mind for centuries and only an eternity awaiting on the horizon might seem daunting, or perhaps miserable to some. Famkee could see that, but to have every ample opportunity to mend bruises, forget a frightful past, a certain enlightenment that molds and bends with the present completely different from the previous generational problems.
On the contrary, he unexpectedly has an unfavorable opinion, life has a funny way of balancing the scales, unfair or not Famkee thinks everything just, is. It's a rather uncharacteristic optimism that fumbles her thought process, but perhaps it's what he needs to hear right now. He speaks of an ethereal punishment, locked away for many years. What had he done to deserve such suffering? This might worry some, but she doesn't ponder on the thought for long. They share many displaced emotions and thus Famkee allows her shell to crumble just a bit more in the wake of their interaction.
"How did you survive? Were you conscious beneath the earth?" Genuine curiosity lifts her brow, an almost innocent bewilderment raising the tonality of her voice. She knew he was an immortal, he didn't need the traditional means of surviving, but to be aware of an endless prison for centuries, Famkee couldn't think of anything more insanity inducing. The mountain must have been especially touching for him, he was on the cusp, even in the throes of this war towards it's birth. Famkee likes to think she'd be able to endure an everlasting life, though she can barely withstand her own history, maybe a permanent existence would dull the pain, the beauty that her end would never be in her line of sight.
Famkee isn't afraid of death, in fact she's become so intimate with the shadow hovering over her shoulder it's made her numb to just about any occurrence in her waking self. With a mere tilt of her head, she invites him to join her for the short walk to the river ahead. The meadows grasses are taller than usual inside the warmth of the summer sun, the blades tickle the skin of her flank as she splits a pathway. The inevitable darkness that loomed it's anticipative energy over his back, a constant reminder that he'd lose those he'd held close, loved, cherished. She knows this even in her short life, but it's difficult to harness from his point of view, the gravity it holds. When he speaks fondly of a past lover, seemingly lost to times grasp a stab of sorrow threatened to pinch her gut, the feeling reaches her face though and she looks hurt. Famkee had never known a love outside of her twin or blood, she never had the care or the time. She often wonders if the desire will ever be there, there's no room for it inside her soul, plenty crowded enough as it is. When she reaches the stream, she peers down at her reflection.
"I may not be able to ever understand, but I see it as a gift. Think of the knowledge you hold over everyones head," She pauses to look at him from her reflection, a far easier sight. "a teacher perhaps." She wants to grin, the words probably not holding the value she hopes to instill. Her sympathy can only go so far, after all she doesn't know him, the ins and outs of his past sprinkle his vulnerabilities on her but Famkee couldn't allow this stranger to make her think too much. "How did it feel to be in love?" Just like that she loses the battle with delving too deep. She can't help it, her golden eyes searching for an answer she has yet to discover. She often wonders what the weight of loving another completely (other than the surface love she held for her brother) would feel like. Her idea of love was frightening to her, giving parts of oneself entrusting them to another.
His past is a thankful distraction for her to switch her attention, his ancestors being the source of magic that tainted the lands of Beqanna, and perhaps it does make sense that his gift from the sprites suits him so well. "but i don't deny that it would be useful to know how to pick up the artist's brush. someday." How eloquently put, she thinks. He causes a gentle curve to her lips as she takes the liberty to dip her hooves into the flowing water, delightfully refreshing to the senses, symbolically drowning out the theatrics. "Perhaps we could teach eachother our knowledge. The art of battle is fruitful in many ways but," she pauses briefly to suck in a breath the cool water brings now reaching the skin of her upper legs. "I feel the skills of combat have been diluted with magic. So many rely on their gifts and not the primal nature of what the body is capable of." She had no choice but to think this way, she wasn't bestowed with any special conjury nor the advantage. Though now she bares the benefits of what she came back from the mountain with, it doesn't swell her physical body in any way. He seems to piece it together for her, a word for the alien visions she's come to align. "Clairvoyance." She had heard of it, an equine from her homeland had mastered it gracing her judgement of the future to her pupils. It's hard to believe that she had joined the mare she thought so highly of in these strengths, though she thinks she's not even close to understanding how it works.
She hadn't expected the shallow appearance of the creek to be this deep as she continues to delve deeper into the water, now lapping her dapples adorning the lower colors of her back. The water darkens her coat even more, saturating her skin and soothing the tension thought to be lost in tightened muscles. Her long mane and tail float near the surface, enrapturing her body. When he speaks of grounding, offering his aid she nearly wants to blush under his gaze. Simultaneously, she feels guilty even asking of anything of him at all, after all he said himself, she could handle it. She fights the bitterness to avoid his gaze, but she heeds to the kindness eventually. "Your presence is enough, Assailant. It's difficult for me to ask anything of a stranger." Though she does give another familiar lilt of her skull, silently asking him to join her in the comfort of the stream. Were his newfound feathers waterproof?
On the contrary, he unexpectedly has an unfavorable opinion, life has a funny way of balancing the scales, unfair or not Famkee thinks everything just, is. It's a rather uncharacteristic optimism that fumbles her thought process, but perhaps it's what he needs to hear right now. He speaks of an ethereal punishment, locked away for many years. What had he done to deserve such suffering? This might worry some, but she doesn't ponder on the thought for long. They share many displaced emotions and thus Famkee allows her shell to crumble just a bit more in the wake of their interaction.
"How did you survive? Were you conscious beneath the earth?" Genuine curiosity lifts her brow, an almost innocent bewilderment raising the tonality of her voice. She knew he was an immortal, he didn't need the traditional means of surviving, but to be aware of an endless prison for centuries, Famkee couldn't think of anything more insanity inducing. The mountain must have been especially touching for him, he was on the cusp, even in the throes of this war towards it's birth. Famkee likes to think she'd be able to endure an everlasting life, though she can barely withstand her own history, maybe a permanent existence would dull the pain, the beauty that her end would never be in her line of sight.
Famkee isn't afraid of death, in fact she's become so intimate with the shadow hovering over her shoulder it's made her numb to just about any occurrence in her waking self. With a mere tilt of her head, she invites him to join her for the short walk to the river ahead. The meadows grasses are taller than usual inside the warmth of the summer sun, the blades tickle the skin of her flank as she splits a pathway. The inevitable darkness that loomed it's anticipative energy over his back, a constant reminder that he'd lose those he'd held close, loved, cherished. She knows this even in her short life, but it's difficult to harness from his point of view, the gravity it holds. When he speaks fondly of a past lover, seemingly lost to times grasp a stab of sorrow threatened to pinch her gut, the feeling reaches her face though and she looks hurt. Famkee had never known a love outside of her twin or blood, she never had the care or the time. She often wonders if the desire will ever be there, there's no room for it inside her soul, plenty crowded enough as it is. When she reaches the stream, she peers down at her reflection.
"I may not be able to ever understand, but I see it as a gift. Think of the knowledge you hold over everyones head," She pauses to look at him from her reflection, a far easier sight. "a teacher perhaps." She wants to grin, the words probably not holding the value she hopes to instill. Her sympathy can only go so far, after all she doesn't know him, the ins and outs of his past sprinkle his vulnerabilities on her but Famkee couldn't allow this stranger to make her think too much. "How did it feel to be in love?" Just like that she loses the battle with delving too deep. She can't help it, her golden eyes searching for an answer she has yet to discover. She often wonders what the weight of loving another completely (other than the surface love she held for her brother) would feel like. Her idea of love was frightening to her, giving parts of oneself entrusting them to another.
His past is a thankful distraction for her to switch her attention, his ancestors being the source of magic that tainted the lands of Beqanna, and perhaps it does make sense that his gift from the sprites suits him so well. "but i don't deny that it would be useful to know how to pick up the artist's brush. someday." How eloquently put, she thinks. He causes a gentle curve to her lips as she takes the liberty to dip her hooves into the flowing water, delightfully refreshing to the senses, symbolically drowning out the theatrics. "Perhaps we could teach eachother our knowledge. The art of battle is fruitful in many ways but," she pauses briefly to suck in a breath the cool water brings now reaching the skin of her upper legs. "I feel the skills of combat have been diluted with magic. So many rely on their gifts and not the primal nature of what the body is capable of." She had no choice but to think this way, she wasn't bestowed with any special conjury nor the advantage. Though now she bares the benefits of what she came back from the mountain with, it doesn't swell her physical body in any way. He seems to piece it together for her, a word for the alien visions she's come to align. "Clairvoyance." She had heard of it, an equine from her homeland had mastered it gracing her judgement of the future to her pupils. It's hard to believe that she had joined the mare she thought so highly of in these strengths, though she thinks she's not even close to understanding how it works.
She hadn't expected the shallow appearance of the creek to be this deep as she continues to delve deeper into the water, now lapping her dapples adorning the lower colors of her back. The water darkens her coat even more, saturating her skin and soothing the tension thought to be lost in tightened muscles. Her long mane and tail float near the surface, enrapturing her body. When he speaks of grounding, offering his aid she nearly wants to blush under his gaze. Simultaneously, she feels guilty even asking of anything of him at all, after all he said himself, she could handle it. She fights the bitterness to avoid his gaze, but she heeds to the kindness eventually. "Your presence is enough, Assailant. It's difficult for me to ask anything of a stranger." Though she does give another familiar lilt of her skull, silently asking him to join her in the comfort of the stream. Were his newfound feathers waterproof?
if my heart is in your hands will i die
Famkee
@assailant
![[Image: EOU990v.png]](https://i.imgur.com/EOU990v.png)
Famkee [Fahm-key]