03-04-2018, 05:56 PM
Out with the golden we sew, and the lower past that crawls.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
I do not have to wait long before a figure appears, wandering as if lost from the Ischian underbrush. Instinctively I take a step forward, nostrils flaring, wondering if the too-skinny girl needs help - but at the last moment I remember that I am representing Hyaline, just by being from there. And so I stand, legs askew in the sand, neck extended as if that would allow me to somehow help the girl.
Hello, she says, and yet her pretty eyes, set against the lush lavender of her face, seem to pass completely through me. My skin itches, as if to warn me that I am a ghost - or perhaps that she is. There is something unearthly about this situation, at any rate. About the way the girl's eyes are as gaunt as her ribs.
"Hello there," I murmur, not wanting to startle the fragile figure. Two streams of thought battle within me, one wanting to go forward and coddle the child (though she be more mare than filly in stature), the other telling me that such forwardness is completely unwarranted on the part of a diplomat. But I have been a lover and a nurturer for far longer than I have been a diplomat, and so the prior wins out.
I close the distance between us and wrap the lavender girl in a tight hug, giving it my all, though I fear that she may be as stiff as a board under such attention. But she needs it. I can see in the way her muscles bunch and her eyes look too much like crying. She needs to be held - even just by a stranger.
Though that look in her eyes is no stranger to me.
Releasing her from the embrace, I back up softly until our noses are about a half a foot apart. My nutmeg eyes glimmer, genuine concern reflected in their depths. "Are you okay?" I speak gently, reassuringly, as if she can trust me - and she can.
"My name is Kagerus, I'd love to hear your name too..."
Hello, she says, and yet her pretty eyes, set against the lush lavender of her face, seem to pass completely through me. My skin itches, as if to warn me that I am a ghost - or perhaps that she is. There is something unearthly about this situation, at any rate. About the way the girl's eyes are as gaunt as her ribs.
"Hello there," I murmur, not wanting to startle the fragile figure. Two streams of thought battle within me, one wanting to go forward and coddle the child (though she be more mare than filly in stature), the other telling me that such forwardness is completely unwarranted on the part of a diplomat. But I have been a lover and a nurturer for far longer than I have been a diplomat, and so the prior wins out.
I close the distance between us and wrap the lavender girl in a tight hug, giving it my all, though I fear that she may be as stiff as a board under such attention. But she needs it. I can see in the way her muscles bunch and her eyes look too much like crying. She needs to be held - even just by a stranger.
Though that look in her eyes is no stranger to me.
Releasing her from the embrace, I back up softly until our noses are about a half a foot apart. My nutmeg eyes glimmer, genuine concern reflected in their depths. "Are you okay?" I speak gently, reassuringly, as if she can trust me - and she can.
"My name is Kagerus, I'd love to hear your name too..."
Kagerus
sweet nothing
![[Image: kag]](https://78.media.tumblr.com/2e8039018ce4dff6112c167ec23e886a/tumblr_p72zjit7wC1s5a0qvo1_100.png)
dreamweaver