11-23-2020, 10:31 PM
open hand or closed fist would be fine
--rosemary
the blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine
Rosemary is sweet as she grows into herself. Sweet and supple but just as cutting as the sharp shadows she grew up with. There's a new danger in her eyes, a growing hunger. It rumbles and roils, desperate to overtake her like the crashing tides of a stormy ocean. She is her own sea, her own ecosystem, brimming with strange creatures and dazzling monuments to be discovered. She will not be washed away as she grows, no. Her world only widens, both brightens and darkens - she will define the ocean when it rages and when it cleanses.
When the fire burnt Pangea down, a little bit of her world burned, too.
Not because she loved the land, for she never lived there, but because she saw the way her father's face contorted - watched as her mother's eyes found deeper creases of worry. First Ghaul, now the land that defined Lie in ways he'll never admit. She felt compassion and - grief, maybe for the first time. Her first instinct was to comfort her family, to accompany her father, but he had told her must travel alone and - wouldn't it be dangerous for her, anyway?
Rose had frowned in disagreement, feeling protected in ways she thinks she's outgrown, but did not argue. Pangea was not her lover to mourn.
It was for the best, clearly, as the watery stranger Rosemary had met one fated day on the beach affectionately greeted her. Any mature introspection she was doing races from her mind: "My father went to go check it out, but he'll be all right." He will be because he has to be, because he always comes back. Rose doesn't know any better. "It didn't touch the Cove. I don't know if it's in Hyaline, too. It must mean something bad, if Carnage's land is burning . . ." she trails off, eyes tracing to the landscape beyond Crowns.
"I had wanted to go. Father wouldn't let me."
When the fire burnt Pangea down, a little bit of her world burned, too.
Not because she loved the land, for she never lived there, but because she saw the way her father's face contorted - watched as her mother's eyes found deeper creases of worry. First Ghaul, now the land that defined Lie in ways he'll never admit. She felt compassion and - grief, maybe for the first time. Her first instinct was to comfort her family, to accompany her father, but he had told her must travel alone and - wouldn't it be dangerous for her, anyway?
Rose had frowned in disagreement, feeling protected in ways she thinks she's outgrown, but did not argue. Pangea was not her lover to mourn.
It was for the best, clearly, as the watery stranger Rosemary had met one fated day on the beach affectionately greeted her. Any mature introspection she was doing races from her mind: "My father went to go check it out, but he'll be all right." He will be because he has to be, because he always comes back. Rose doesn't know any better. "It didn't touch the Cove. I don't know if it's in Hyaline, too. It must mean something bad, if Carnage's land is burning . . ." she trails off, eyes tracing to the landscape beyond Crowns.
"I had wanted to go. Father wouldn't let me."
@[crowns]