Amazonhollow; it felt like a thousand lifetimes away for both of them. By rights, Bo ought to be dead. She’s outlasted in a manner that is unnatural and somehow not aided by magic and yet, it must be magic that makes her keep on going. She should be piecemeal for the crows and the worms, with grass poking up through the eye sockets of a grinning skull bleached by countless hours under the sun.
She’s not any of that, clearly.
But also not like how Ryatah is now - aglow and angelic, touched by so many tales of triumph and tragedy. Bo can read them in that pale skin, but it only reminds her of the beginning, smooth and unblemished for both of them. “My, my!” she breathes aloud, in blatant awe of her oldest and dearest friend.
Stones for eyes now, and angel wings? Ryatah always led such an interesting life in the times that Bo skipped out and off to wherever it was that she went. She thinks the halo is darling, if a bit tilted askew like it can’t quite be perfect because neither of them were perfect. Ryatah would somehow be the most beautiful but most down to earth angel ever. That’s just how it would be, and she nearly chuckled to think so.
But the press of those pale lips to her dark skin made her go silent and still, like only Ryatah could do to her. It might be from a mixed up place of more than just sisterly love but the Hollow had seen to that, made them sisters in the training they shared and the tasks they performed. Bonds like that just seemed to be lasting and had been for them. Forged in the grunts and heat of passions heaped on them.
She loves to hear her friend’s laughter; it sounds free and girlish, something that neither of them had been in quite some time. But there lurked in them, in the underpinnings of skin and bone, remnants of the innocent-eyed girls that they used to be. Bo laughs too, as her friend tugs at the tangled in her hair, always wild and messy like their lives had been. “Good, I always miss you too.”
And she does for how could she not? They’ll probably end up dead together somewhere, their skulls next to each other, grinning and laughing even in death as the world goes on without them. It’s a comforting thought held near and dear to her bosom, as she nuzzles that pale angelic neck. “I’m not really sure, it has no name but it’s where I always go. It’s become home in a way that few other places have.”
Like the Hollow, but she doesn’t have to say that. Ryatah will know, they both know even though this place in which they stand has become a close second. “But look at you! Like an angel, prettier than before.” It is easy to compliment her friend, because no matter what befalls the pale mare, she comes out of it looking like a queen. Like an Amazon. Funny to think that somehow neither of them ever ended up as such in this place, back in the day, when they were glorified.
“What have you been up to my friend?”
She settles in beside Ryatah, knowing the tale will be as good as the telling.
@[Ryatah] Bo wants to hear the story about the rocks for eyes and how nice of Carnage! For once lmfao