GRETA
I once held your soldier heart between my war teeth; shook it like a dog with a bone until it knew the fear of good love.
" Do you remember? "
Summer had come - her first in Beqanna. Her life in Eight’s dark dome was void of season - she simply lived in whatever he saw fit. And quite surely, he was never one for bright and beaming sun. But this? This was a sight to behold - waking up to feel the chill of spring fading to a warmer sun. She woke with what felt like kisses on her skin, hot specks on her bay coat (of course, it was just the dappled sunlight through the shade of the trees).
She had spent her night by the river - not quite sure where else to go. She had Pangea, yes, but that was only because Straia was there- and Straia was the only thing she ‘knew’ in Beqanna (of course, perhaps that was all just her father’s doing). She had little else to do in life - save for waiting for Straia’s call after the din of the battles. And so she meandered. She explored the vastness of the land, something she could never do in the dark dome of Eight’s maliciousness.
She shakes the sleep from her eyes and rises slowly - still ever cautious in this unknown world. The new warmth of the night had made her thirsty, and she slowly picks her way to the river that she had followed from Pangea. Largely, her time back on solid ground has been in solitude - she is timid to approach others, never knowing how they will discover (or abuse) her curse. But on this morning, she has no choice. Across the river, there is someone else - perhaps someone who has also woken up to the sun kissing his back.
She watches quietly as he submerges more of himself into the river, seemingly unafraid of what may be lurking underneath.
She stops, moves her head down to drink her fill - her eyes always keenly upon him. “You’re up early.” Living in a bubble and manipulated for the majority of her life has not left her with the greatest of conversational pieces.
She had spent her night by the river - not quite sure where else to go. She had Pangea, yes, but that was only because Straia was there- and Straia was the only thing she ‘knew’ in Beqanna (of course, perhaps that was all just her father’s doing). She had little else to do in life - save for waiting for Straia’s call after the din of the battles. And so she meandered. She explored the vastness of the land, something she could never do in the dark dome of Eight’s maliciousness.
She shakes the sleep from her eyes and rises slowly - still ever cautious in this unknown world. The new warmth of the night had made her thirsty, and she slowly picks her way to the river that she had followed from Pangea. Largely, her time back on solid ground has been in solitude - she is timid to approach others, never knowing how they will discover (or abuse) her curse. But on this morning, she has no choice. Across the river, there is someone else - perhaps someone who has also woken up to the sun kissing his back.
She watches quietly as he submerges more of himself into the river, seemingly unafraid of what may be lurking underneath.
She stops, moves her head down to drink her fill - her eyes always keenly upon him. “You’re up early.” Living in a bubble and manipulated for the majority of her life has not left her with the greatest of conversational pieces.
@[Cyneric]