anyone;

[Nayl]

She spun the stars on her fingernails Nayl. When she thinks of her name, she thinks of his husky voice and how his lips traced down her neck. She remembers the way he dominated her then cradled her moments later. Her vulnerabilities surfaced and she crumbled to pieces in front of him. What Lior saw – what only he could ever see – was a raw layer that has been submerged far below the surface of her iron shield. They’ve all only seen her fierce, cold-hearted, but in the silver moonlight of his eyes, Nayl melted. And she doesn’t regret it, not really. The lust for power flickered back to mind the second everything ended. What she saw was a legacy brewing, a force that she is berthing into Beqanna, while Lior saw a mere child, an image of their shared intimacy. She cannot let loose her grip on her throne or the perceptions of her peers. For hours she lied awake beneath the star-kissed sky, contemplating, brewing, worrying. But she forced it to the side, at least for now, as the shores of Nerine fell into the backdrop. Why she decided to come to the forest now, her stomach heavy with child, she isn’t quite sure. The towering trees, though deciduous instead of tropical, still remind her of the Jungle. They stand sentinel as she wanders deeper into their shadows, the sunlight cascading down in sheets through the naked branched. A brief glance sees the barren treetops, but then she is looking around, unseeing, while settling close to an old oak tree, lost in thought. Nayl covet and myrina's creation