Ruhr
03-25-2024, 01:42 PM
The Moon is surely as different from this world as Stratos had been; Ruhr is no longer sure if her struggle for balance is due to unfamiliarity to this gravity, this shape, or this world. Perhaps it is just weakness?
The uncertainty of not knowing is uncomfortable, and he thinks of the darkness that She had offered instead of her visions these last long nights. Darkness, a void deeper even than Moondark.
Darkness, and then this stranger falling from the sky. What does it mean?
“In her reflections, she shows me futures, both the real and the possible.” That only some of her visions come true has become obvious over the years. The difference between them is unclear, but he is sure there must be a method.
The stranger recognizes the truth of his words, Ruhr sees, his slowly darkening eyes finding the wonder in her expression. Yet she remains not entirely at ease, looking away from his searching gaze as her feathers brush against his in a wind-light touch.
She is lost, and alone, and yet the Moon had not shown her to him.
Perhaps She had simply not shown her to him yet? He will wait for darkness and still water, and then he will ask for a sign. But he will need to be sure that she accompanies him long enough to find out, and the answer he gives reflects that.
“Yes, there are others. These lands are...” He pauses, his gaze flicking out toward the graying hills: “Not mine.” Ruhr reminds himself that he is speaking only the truth. That he implies more is surely permitted by the Moon.
“May I show you to a waterfall? It is safe, and healing, and I will ask Her for guidance.” Ruhr does not know if the waterfall located in the near desert is truly safe, but he reasons he can keep her nearly so in this quiet world, and so that too is no true lie. It is an uncomfortable sort of reasoning though, the kind that grates against his uncertainty, his disquiet of the dark visions, her strange arrival.
“Plenilune,” he repeats the name, and then again “Plenilune. And you are sure you are not of the Moon? You have not been sent?” To me? To earth?
@Plenilune
The uncertainty of not knowing is uncomfortable, and he thinks of the darkness that She had offered instead of her visions these last long nights. Darkness, a void deeper even than Moondark.
Darkness, and then this stranger falling from the sky. What does it mean?
“In her reflections, she shows me futures, both the real and the possible.” That only some of her visions come true has become obvious over the years. The difference between them is unclear, but he is sure there must be a method.
The stranger recognizes the truth of his words, Ruhr sees, his slowly darkening eyes finding the wonder in her expression. Yet she remains not entirely at ease, looking away from his searching gaze as her feathers brush against his in a wind-light touch.
She is lost, and alone, and yet the Moon had not shown her to him.
Perhaps She had simply not shown her to him yet? He will wait for darkness and still water, and then he will ask for a sign. But he will need to be sure that she accompanies him long enough to find out, and the answer he gives reflects that.
“Yes, there are others. These lands are...” He pauses, his gaze flicking out toward the graying hills: “Not mine.” Ruhr reminds himself that he is speaking only the truth. That he implies more is surely permitted by the Moon.
“May I show you to a waterfall? It is safe, and healing, and I will ask Her for guidance.” Ruhr does not know if the waterfall located in the near desert is truly safe, but he reasons he can keep her nearly so in this quiet world, and so that too is no true lie. It is an uncomfortable sort of reasoning though, the kind that grates against his uncertainty, his disquiet of the dark visions, her strange arrival.
“Plenilune,” he repeats the name, and then again “Plenilune. And you are sure you are not of the Moon? You have not been sent?” To me? To earth?
@Plenilune