12-18-2020, 12:00 AM
take my soul & make it undone
be the one, be the one to take me home and show me the sun. i know, i know you can bring the fire, i can bring the bones. i know, i know you'll make the fire, my bones will make it grow.
“You sleep with your mouth open.” Wishbone can remember those tender days before the world had changed when her mother had let her spend a couple of nights with Svedka and Solace. She had been young, curious, reckless — and Svedka has always gathered that fire with a smile and dragged her toward adventures. In the midnight hours, when they both had curled into a heap of exhausted limbs, she had often woken to the feeling of drool wetting her forehead.
A long, dark leg moves against the tide to spray ocean-water in Svedka’s direction. It’s a move he will recognize well, despite the differences in the leg that performs it. They have played this game many times — in her youth, in the week before her coronation, during the less-frequent visits while she ruled — and undying mischief glimmers in her familiar amber eyes. “Sometimes a spider will crawl into it and you won’t even notice.” This tease is more of a joke than truth; she had always simply moved out from under his unhinged jaw and fallen asleep again.
There is something darker brooding between them, an unspoken knowledge that the world is not as carefree as they pretend it is. The pair had danced with Death before it had finally claimed them, and the shadows in her brother’s eyes remind Wishbone of the brutality of that kidnapping.
The heavy weight of the kelpie upon her shoulders, pushing her deeper into the western sea. The saltwater rushing into her quivering nose, her lungs convulsing as it craves air and receives only ineffective waves. The throbbing ache throughout her entire body as she succumbed to the darkness, unaware of the way her blood would stain the beach and her skull would sit among his treasures.
The water surrounding them suddenly seems menacing, and it makes Wishbone sick to her stomach. The humor in her bright gaze fades into chagrin and she plucks herself from Tephra’s ocean before her mind can run deeper into the memories. The day has melted into twilight, long shadows falling across the beach from the tropics, and Wishbone’s eyes find where the stars are beginning to glimmer from their navy-colored home. She doesn’t conceal the way her disquiet reflects in her eyes, even as she feels her chest grow weary under the glow of the night sky.
“Dad helped bring me back.” The night sky has always reminded Wishbone of him, of the way he would tuck her beneath his wing and teach her the names of the constellations. She would name them now but in her mind, she is weakly rising to her feet after pinwheeling off a waterfall. They had been forced to choose — the father she hadn’t known was dead or the young red explorer with twins who could barely remember her face — and Warrick had sacrificed himself so she could return to Life. “I didn’t even know he was gone.”
A long, dark leg moves against the tide to spray ocean-water in Svedka’s direction. It’s a move he will recognize well, despite the differences in the leg that performs it. They have played this game many times — in her youth, in the week before her coronation, during the less-frequent visits while she ruled — and undying mischief glimmers in her familiar amber eyes. “Sometimes a spider will crawl into it and you won’t even notice.” This tease is more of a joke than truth; she had always simply moved out from under his unhinged jaw and fallen asleep again.
There is something darker brooding between them, an unspoken knowledge that the world is not as carefree as they pretend it is. The pair had danced with Death before it had finally claimed them, and the shadows in her brother’s eyes remind Wishbone of the brutality of that kidnapping.
The heavy weight of the kelpie upon her shoulders, pushing her deeper into the western sea. The saltwater rushing into her quivering nose, her lungs convulsing as it craves air and receives only ineffective waves. The throbbing ache throughout her entire body as she succumbed to the darkness, unaware of the way her blood would stain the beach and her skull would sit among his treasures.
The water surrounding them suddenly seems menacing, and it makes Wishbone sick to her stomach. The humor in her bright gaze fades into chagrin and she plucks herself from Tephra’s ocean before her mind can run deeper into the memories. The day has melted into twilight, long shadows falling across the beach from the tropics, and Wishbone’s eyes find where the stars are beginning to glimmer from their navy-colored home. She doesn’t conceal the way her disquiet reflects in her eyes, even as she feels her chest grow weary under the glow of the night sky.
“Dad helped bring me back.” The night sky has always reminded Wishbone of him, of the way he would tuck her beneath his wing and teach her the names of the constellations. She would name them now but in her mind, she is weakly rising to her feet after pinwheeling off a waterfall. They had been forced to choose — the father she hadn’t known was dead or the young red explorer with twins who could barely remember her face — and Warrick had sacrificed himself so she could return to Life. “I didn’t even know he was gone.”
@[Svedka]