06-30-2021, 04:59 PM
it's a mystery to me
we have a greed with which we have agreed. you think you have to want more than you need; until you have it all you won't be free. and when you think more than you want, your thoughts begin to bleed.
Wishbone has never lived in the realm of fear. The world hasn’t made her afraid, and she didn’t even feel scared when Death finally claimed her. She has always risen to the challenges of life, always felt herself harden into a woman of bravery, always stared straight into the face of Death and dared to taunt it. Her spirit of adventure made her abandon worry for herself, but as she settles into the role of motherhood, she finds that it didn’t erase worry for others.
After the Curse casually visited Tephra and left her bleeding at the edge of the falls, Wishbone’s worry for the twins became even heavier. She’s never felt anxiety like this, never felt her heart tighten when a shadow moves out of the corner of her eye or when she hasn’t heard the twins in an hour or so. It threatens to make her insane, teasing her with the idea of hiding the children in a cave somewhere until they’re old enough to protect themselves from Gale. It would be easier; she could put Malou at the mouth of the cave to alert her if anyone tries to leave or enter.
But it would ruin Sickle and Malik’s childhood, and she’d be the one responsible for that. She would have let her anxiety rule her, and Wishbone only allows her emotions to control her when she is the only one who might get hurt. So, despite how many times she might think about wrangling the twins into a safe corner of Tephra and keeping them there, Wishbone’s dismissed the idea.
However, she doesn’t stop patrolling the borders. The purple queen knows she won’t forget Gale’s scent after he killed her, just like she won’t forget the sensation of her heart ripping from her chest. She walks along Tephra’s border religiously, though she doesn’t establish a specific routine so Gale won’t evade her if he does come back.
As Wishbone prepares to cross the stream, her amber eyes identify a shape moving underwater. A chill runs down her spine, remembering how quickly Gale was able to shift from one form to the next (just as Sickle and Malik can). Wishbone wastes no time in tracking the shadow, sticking closer to the treeline so she won’t be seen by it. And she waits in the shadows when a mare pulls herself from the water. The jagged, glowing scar across her chest prickles painfully at the memory of Gale’s unannounced presence in Tephra.
Without another moment’s thought, Wishbone steps quietly from the jungle’s undergrowth. Her magic feels the mare’s skeleton, gently touching the places where it would be easy to snap a thin bone or two. She’s been on edge among strangers since seeing what the Curse was capable of, and she can’t help but wonder if this stranger is just a disguise. Her voice comes out strong, commanding, firm — unwilling to give away the tension that roils inside her. “Who are you?”
After the Curse casually visited Tephra and left her bleeding at the edge of the falls, Wishbone’s worry for the twins became even heavier. She’s never felt anxiety like this, never felt her heart tighten when a shadow moves out of the corner of her eye or when she hasn’t heard the twins in an hour or so. It threatens to make her insane, teasing her with the idea of hiding the children in a cave somewhere until they’re old enough to protect themselves from Gale. It would be easier; she could put Malou at the mouth of the cave to alert her if anyone tries to leave or enter.
But it would ruin Sickle and Malik’s childhood, and she’d be the one responsible for that. She would have let her anxiety rule her, and Wishbone only allows her emotions to control her when she is the only one who might get hurt. So, despite how many times she might think about wrangling the twins into a safe corner of Tephra and keeping them there, Wishbone’s dismissed the idea.
However, she doesn’t stop patrolling the borders. The purple queen knows she won’t forget Gale’s scent after he killed her, just like she won’t forget the sensation of her heart ripping from her chest. She walks along Tephra’s border religiously, though she doesn’t establish a specific routine so Gale won’t evade her if he does come back.
As Wishbone prepares to cross the stream, her amber eyes identify a shape moving underwater. A chill runs down her spine, remembering how quickly Gale was able to shift from one form to the next (just as Sickle and Malik can). Wishbone wastes no time in tracking the shadow, sticking closer to the treeline so she won’t be seen by it. And she waits in the shadows when a mare pulls herself from the water. The jagged, glowing scar across her chest prickles painfully at the memory of Gale’s unannounced presence in Tephra.
Without another moment’s thought, Wishbone steps quietly from the jungle’s undergrowth. Her magic feels the mare’s skeleton, gently touching the places where it would be easy to snap a thin bone or two. She’s been on edge among strangers since seeing what the Curse was capable of, and she can’t help but wonder if this stranger is just a disguise. Her voice comes out strong, commanding, firm — unwilling to give away the tension that roils inside her. “Who are you?”
@Sabal