08-06-2015, 01:00 PM
It’s true, she is nowhere near as exciting as Camrynn is. She may not play the puppeteer with others, sticking her nose in where it doesn’t belong, but that doesn’t necessarily make her boring. Yael has had more than enough excitement for two or three lives; fire has licked at her hooves and singed her skin, while death has plagued her company. It might make anyone else bitter, turn their blood to bile and their spit to venom.
Not Yael.
Not yet.
So you must excuse her preferring a quiet life at the moment. Maybe she will start to meddle in affairs at some point in the future, or maybe she will become a Meadow bum. Those things, however, will not happen today.
They soar across the Desert, Yael leading Straia higher, to wear the hot air currents are strong enough that they can circle easily. The Raven Queen (and most others, actually) cannot see why she lives in the Desert. Yael could recount where she came from, another land of gold, frankincense, and myrr, and how she has always been of the Desert. Just like Straia has always been of the Chamber. However, the golden woman has found that it is often easier to show than tell. “T’en let me show you. Close your eyes unteel I say open t’em.” It might seem odd, and potentially dangerous, but Straia is with Yael. Not only does she not wish to start (another) war, she has offered Straia her friendship, in the way that rulers and former rulers awkwardly do. Taking care to hold the two of them up, just in case something were to happen all the way up there, Yael opens her mind and gently invades Straia’s head, taking care to stick to only her senses, leaving thoughts and personal bits alone.. Her companion’s head might buzz or feel a bit spacey, but she is entirely safe.
When she is settled in, Yael says “Open your eyes, dear,” and waits. Maybe it was Morphine’s peculiarly good type of magic, but when she first received the gift, it was overwhelming. Everything was bright and sparkly - it was as if she could see the beauty in every grain of sand - the way it was multifaced, like a diamond, and glistened in the sun and moved with the wind. She could hear the scorpion and desert adder that burrowed beneath the dunes, and the families of fennec foxes that lounged far away, under the red rocks’ cooler shadows. She saw the veins of power that rested in a web beneath the sand, and the beacon of magic that lit up Van’s tree. The sky was the bluest blue. The wind actually whispered as it weaved past her ear. Everything made sense, and then all of a sudden, nothing did.
The world, however, was beautiful. Is still beautiful.
She waits to see what Straia will think.
Not Yael.
Not yet.
So you must excuse her preferring a quiet life at the moment. Maybe she will start to meddle in affairs at some point in the future, or maybe she will become a Meadow bum. Those things, however, will not happen today.
They soar across the Desert, Yael leading Straia higher, to wear the hot air currents are strong enough that they can circle easily. The Raven Queen (and most others, actually) cannot see why she lives in the Desert. Yael could recount where she came from, another land of gold, frankincense, and myrr, and how she has always been of the Desert. Just like Straia has always been of the Chamber. However, the golden woman has found that it is often easier to show than tell. “T’en let me show you. Close your eyes unteel I say open t’em.” It might seem odd, and potentially dangerous, but Straia is with Yael. Not only does she not wish to start (another) war, she has offered Straia her friendship, in the way that rulers and former rulers awkwardly do. Taking care to hold the two of them up, just in case something were to happen all the way up there, Yael opens her mind and gently invades Straia’s head, taking care to stick to only her senses, leaving thoughts and personal bits alone.. Her companion’s head might buzz or feel a bit spacey, but she is entirely safe.
When she is settled in, Yael says “Open your eyes, dear,” and waits. Maybe it was Morphine’s peculiarly good type of magic, but when she first received the gift, it was overwhelming. Everything was bright and sparkly - it was as if she could see the beauty in every grain of sand - the way it was multifaced, like a diamond, and glistened in the sun and moved with the wind. She could hear the scorpion and desert adder that burrowed beneath the dunes, and the families of fennec foxes that lounged far away, under the red rocks’ cooler shadows. She saw the veins of power that rested in a web beneath the sand, and the beacon of magic that lit up Van’s tree. The sky was the bluest blue. The wind actually whispered as it weaved past her ear. Everything made sense, and then all of a sudden, nothing did.
The world, however, was beautiful. Is still beautiful.
She waits to see what Straia will think.
Yael, guardian of the desert