the glass candles are burning; Kirin/any

[Wayra]

She heard the rustle of wings before she heard him. The sound was faint, and blended in with the rhythmic wash of waves against the shore, but Wayra had become tuned to the sound of feathers. She cast her dark eyes skyward and was rewarded with the sight of lavender. Something in Wayra’s expression seemed to brighten a little though her features didn’t move. It could have been a gleam in her eye, or simply his own brightness reflected back in the glassy surface of her face. But whatever the reason, Wayra’s world seemed a little more colorful when he was in her view. At his compliment, Wayra’s expression did change, a flickering of amusement that started first in her eyes and crept down to her lips.

“It’s the ocean, it has a way of smoothing out all the jagged edges.” That much was true. Just look at any pebble on the shore, it would be round and soft. Wayra didn’t know if waves worked similarly on the soul, but she stood by the water anyways, just watching the tide come in and out.

In one way, at least, there was a similarly in their gifts. They both were able to travel where horses weren’t designed to go. Kirin on a wing, and Wayra on ice. She immediately complied with his request to land. Out from her hooves swept a plane of ice, rough so as no to be slippery, and big enough for two, but just big enough. A real smile tugged at her lips then, and her dark features became almost impish as she looked away to hide her little joke. She could have easily, without any effort at all, made the platform much bigger, as it was now, he was going to have to stand very close to her. Wayra adopted a look that was a little too glassy, a little too innocent. She wasn’t sure where his wings were going to go, as big as they were.

“Of course.” She said simply, glancing down at the small space she had created for him. The blue girl felt a thrill, deep in her breast at her own daring. Beneath the brand burned into her skin, Wayra felt her heart beat faster. It hurt, and her breath became a little more shallow, but she ignored it. For once she relished the throb, for it meant she was alive, even if she was cold, and in this moment, it was clear that alive was a good thing to be.