08-30-2018, 11:23 AM
Breckin
the truth that you'll find
will always be the truth you hide
will always be the truth you hide
The roots of wandering would forever wind deeply within her, causing the mare an unsettled and blissful plague of inability to rest in one spot for longer than perhaps three days. Nerine may be her domain, or committence, her inheritance, but every so often, she just had to get out, whether it be for matters of the kingdom or preserving her sanity, or both really. Hadn’t they become nearly the same thing?
With the crown of Nerine shifting hands and falling upon her head, she’d been left to pick off where Wishbone had left off. Tending to affairs small and large alike, but the clarity of her mind was becoming a bare necessity, so her wanderings helped remedy any encroaching ill thoughts that tended to hinder her thinking. In spite of her best efforts, she couldn’t seem to shake the one stallion who seemed to cross her mind daily, wondering what he was up to, if he’d ever want to see her again, if he’d ever change his mind. She had loved him, still did if she was honest with herself. But no amount of wandering seemed to disrupt the lingering thoughts and endless questions that his memory haunted her with.
Today her ambitions of distraction served as a means to cross the Nerinian borders, journeying into the common land that the winding river pierced the heart of. She’d set a brisk pace, basking in the lazy warmth of autumn’s sun upon her speckled back, eyes drifting upward every so often, and a smile softened her features as she watched a pegasus swirl gracefully amidst the endless blue. She wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like to feel the sensation of flight.
Losing herself in quiet thoughts, she carried on further, until a familiar voice calling her name stilled the fluid movement of her thoughts and body alike. The infiltration of a bad memory jolts her heart rate to pick up in speed; the last time this had happened, it had been Leilan calling her name and she’d gone, only to be served with such a verbal lashing it had nearly broken her entirely. But the voice had not been his, nor had her name been called with the heated weight of anger behind it, no , this was a different voice she had become familiar with.
The telltale sign of emotional heaviness building behind her eyes is indication enough that someone is heading in her direction, and the shift of winds tousling her feather laced mane carries his scent upon them. The corners of her dark mouth tilt upward as his presence grows stronger, and she waits idly by as he comes into view.
”Wolfbane.”
your world is still lacking of me, how do you love?