She’d always loved stories, even as a filly. Perhaps the reason being that her mother could draw up anything Olena could imagine when she was asleep, and her sister could paint her stories to life when she was awake. She lived through stories (and still does), for she had no other way to experience anything. Even now, the young girl is far too skinny and slender. Her raven wings - obsidian and blue and beautiful - have never even felt the coolness of a cloud or anything other than the stagnant, smoky air of the Tephra.
The girl is staring into the sky through the patchwork of the jungle canopy, daydreaming of crashing through the intertwined foliage of vines and palms without a worry in the world. But she can’t and so she doesn’t, spending her days wishing and imagining. Even now, her pace is slow and unhurried for anything faster leaves her heart throbbing against her chest and her lungs gasping for air. Too much excitement would trigger a coughing spasm which meant soon she would need to rest and, as the sun traverses across the sky lazily, Olena does not wish to do so at the moment.
A shudder of movement within the deeper parts of the jungle causes the buckskin girl to freeze and bring her dark eyes down from the sky. Her brow furrows, stretching her thin neck forward to peer her slender face into the shadows, curious yet frightened suddenly at what could lie within. She visibly jumps back when the colt comes crashing through the underbrush, an audible gasp leaving her onyx lips. In her fright, her face and neck tremor in waves and then disappears. She feels the coolness of water splash against her dark legs as she herself trips and stumbles - unable to steady herself, she falls with a huff right beside him.
Olena tosses her head with surprise as she regains her bearings, her dark eyes coming to his with a bashfulness on her face that had become visible the moment her body hit the ground. She tries to steady her racing heart and though it aches, she smiles breathlessly at the boy - as weak as she is, she’s always enjoyed good fun - and that’s what this seems like.
“Scary things?” Olena repeats him with confusion on her highly expressive face, framed perfectly by the deep blue leopard spots that adorn her. “You mean like you?” She laughs softly but it is cut short when her lungs refuse to give her the air she needs to do so. The winged girl winces, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply to steady her heart and herself. There is a long pause while she does this and she wonders what he thinks of her - phasing into invisibility, stumbling to the jungle floor, unable to catch her breath. She frowns. “I don’t think I’m a scary thing.” She clarifies in a breathy voice, realizing she hadn’t answered his question. “At least I hope I’m not.”
“Hi, Crowns. My name is Olena.” She smiles even though she knows that finding her feet will be something of a challenge when the time comes. “What do you think I am?”
OLENA
all the stars go dark
@[crowns]