02-18-2021, 02:27 AM
You think I'll be the Dark Sky so you can be the Star?
I'll Swallow you Whole.
I'll Swallow you Whole.
She seems kind, which to Islas feels like a rarity. Most that she has met felt sharp, or at the very least guarded. Everyone seemed to be surrounded by walls that they had little interest in letting anyone over, and for someone like her she of course did not try. She was fascinated by their emotions and the way they did things, but she did not care to know them.
They were not the stars and this was not home.
(That last part would have had more conviction behind it if it were not for Tiercel, and for their child that continue to grow and swell within her.)
Still, the queen draws from her lips a rare smile, though most of it is lost in the dark. “The stars are gone, too,” she adds, and there is the first color of emotion to her voice. A haunted kind of sorrow, a different kind of hollowness, the kind that came from losing something cherished. She has learned that many of the mortals here loved the stars; they loved to stare at them, admire them, spin dreams and stories for them. And Islas would smile and nod, but she would not try to explain that none of them could ever begin to love the stars the way that she did.
She does not tell Oceane that, either. She trusts that it is there, in the silver-wrapping of her tone, that she did not need to state the obvious that she missed the stars more than the sun.
The mention of Tiercel’s mother is perhaps the only other thing besides the stars that can bring that faint flicker of curiosity to her galaxy-dark eyes. It is noticeable the way her gaze seems to suddenly focus on the mare, as if she has blinked away a haze. “I never met Lepis, no,” she says with a shake of her delicate head, and without realizing it her head just subtly tilts and her eyes glance at the swell of her sides. “I know her son, though. Tiercel,” his name is the most familiar thing she has ever said, the only name she has ever really bothered to learn the shape of, but she is still surprised at the strange warmth that flushes beneath her skin.
She is sure it must be obvious; sure only because everyone else seemed so adept at reading emotions when she was not, but she does not try to explain anything. Instead, after a pause, she asks, “You were friends with Lepis, then?”
They were not the stars and this was not home.
(That last part would have had more conviction behind it if it were not for Tiercel, and for their child that continue to grow and swell within her.)
Still, the queen draws from her lips a rare smile, though most of it is lost in the dark. “The stars are gone, too,” she adds, and there is the first color of emotion to her voice. A haunted kind of sorrow, a different kind of hollowness, the kind that came from losing something cherished. She has learned that many of the mortals here loved the stars; they loved to stare at them, admire them, spin dreams and stories for them. And Islas would smile and nod, but she would not try to explain that none of them could ever begin to love the stars the way that she did.
She does not tell Oceane that, either. She trusts that it is there, in the silver-wrapping of her tone, that she did not need to state the obvious that she missed the stars more than the sun.
The mention of Tiercel’s mother is perhaps the only other thing besides the stars that can bring that faint flicker of curiosity to her galaxy-dark eyes. It is noticeable the way her gaze seems to suddenly focus on the mare, as if she has blinked away a haze. “I never met Lepis, no,” she says with a shake of her delicate head, and without realizing it her head just subtly tilts and her eyes glance at the swell of her sides. “I know her son, though. Tiercel,” his name is the most familiar thing she has ever said, the only name she has ever really bothered to learn the shape of, but she is still surprised at the strange warmth that flushes beneath her skin.
She is sure it must be obvious; sure only because everyone else seemed so adept at reading emotions when she was not, but she does not try to explain anything. Instead, after a pause, she asks, “You were friends with Lepis, then?”
Islas
@[Oceane]