He’s here in the forest, comfortable and somewhat relaxed as he stood with her. She describes her home, and his mind’s eye paints a wonderful picture for him. He imagines himself standing at the center of the Sylva, shrouded and covered by the trees. They were not just any trees, though – these trees were stretching to the heavens, nearly scraping the stars from the sky; these were trees that grew with so much power that you could practically hear them growing as they expand upwards and onwards, their colors of fiery orange-red filling a never-ending sky.
He opens his eyes, not realizing he had closed them. His soft, auburn lids reveal the gaze of brilliant blue. “It sounds wonderful.” Suddenly, though not as shocking as before (meaning that Warrick didn’t jump in surprise this time), a cloud of gold touches the air – shimmering faintly and then disappearing. He notices the small differences of who was now standing before him, but he smiles comfortingly. It was still Djinni. He wonders now if she were to change her appearance and run into him at a later time if he would recognize her somehow. He liked to think that he would.
She asks about Tephra and he smiles thoughtfully. He knows that she probably already knows about the land, but he knows she might have not seen it from his point of view – the volcano alive and breathing, the heart of the land pulsating through every rock and tree, groaning as it quakes and exhales smoke and ash. But soon he found that the smile that had found his indigo lips falters somewhat, his brilliant blue eyes dimming. Immediately, his heartbeat quickens in a way that made his chest ache stubbornly and he wonders if she can hear it thrum madly against his ribcage.
Their afternoon conversation was slowly turning into night, the sun now nearing the horizon. He sighs quietly, pressing his lips firmly together in thought. “I – my family – well, we aren’t from this world.” He shuffles his hooves uncertainly, his eyes bouncing from Djinni’s soft green to the blazing orange of the setting sun. “My ancestors lived in the stars.” Warrick swallows hard, hoping that she wouldn’t be offended that his sentences were less than informative and seem strangulated. He felt like his voice was wavering and unsure. “At least that’s what my mom told me,” he adds with a short chuckle that only lasts momentarily, “she found her way back there, though.”
He stops. His eyes lift upwards as the sun moves more than halfway below the horizon, the orange and pinks of sunset colliding with the cool blue of the night sky that had began to enter. His face twists, brow furrowing uncertainly as he stares up at the North Star that pricked its way first into the sky. He’s lost in the stars now, like he spent most every night, searching the skies with longing eyes as if merely wishing would bring his mother and sister back to him.
w a r r i c k