01-31-2021, 10:48 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.
“The Afterlife’s peace is a story for another time.” Wishbone had told herself she would save that adventure for a time when they have both recovered from their present heartache (and though it will never go away fully, it will fade and the edges will wash soft by the tides of time). Yet she cannot ignore Lilliana’s comment about the Afterlife; her dark lips move into a knowing smile as they reach their final lookout point.
No — her version of the Afterlife had never looked like their view. Northern Beqanna spreads under their noses, and each land lies distinctly from the next. Wishbone’s eyes trace the landscape, picking out the redwoods of Taiga from the wide emptiness of Nerine. Her heart twinges at the sight of the proud and lonely cliffs, with faces that brave the angry forces of the northern ocean. Nostalgia twists against her heart, pulling out the warm threads of muscle and blood that have always loved Nerine.
The ocean cuts a fine line into the shorelines of Taiga and Nerine. Though Wishbone knows the tides roll into the beaches and froth against the sand, the ocean looks like a smooth, soft sheet of deep blue that mirrors the sky above their heads. The forests are cut into patchworks from so far above, and animals that might normally be seen are nothing but the faintest pinpricks against green and brown swathes. The world looks so simple — and beautiful — from their view, and it brings gentle tears to Wishbone’s eyes.
She has never been brought to tears often, but the trials of life have brought her to this moment with Lilliana, and she is grateful. Wishbone finds she cannot put it into words; the entirety of her climb (a journey she has longed for all her life), and the adventures she has had, and the sudden knowledge of Wolfbane’s death, and the ways life has thrown her one way and then the other — they all press against her heart and body so she can barely breathe.
“It’s beautiful,” she says, and Wishbone feels her heart release a heavy sigh it had been holding in for too long. “Thank you for coming with me, Lilliana.”
No — her version of the Afterlife had never looked like their view. Northern Beqanna spreads under their noses, and each land lies distinctly from the next. Wishbone’s eyes trace the landscape, picking out the redwoods of Taiga from the wide emptiness of Nerine. Her heart twinges at the sight of the proud and lonely cliffs, with faces that brave the angry forces of the northern ocean. Nostalgia twists against her heart, pulling out the warm threads of muscle and blood that have always loved Nerine.
The ocean cuts a fine line into the shorelines of Taiga and Nerine. Though Wishbone knows the tides roll into the beaches and froth against the sand, the ocean looks like a smooth, soft sheet of deep blue that mirrors the sky above their heads. The forests are cut into patchworks from so far above, and animals that might normally be seen are nothing but the faintest pinpricks against green and brown swathes. The world looks so simple — and beautiful — from their view, and it brings gentle tears to Wishbone’s eyes.
She has never been brought to tears often, but the trials of life have brought her to this moment with Lilliana, and she is grateful. Wishbone finds she cannot put it into words; the entirety of her climb (a journey she has longed for all her life), and the adventures she has had, and the sudden knowledge of Wolfbane’s death, and the ways life has thrown her one way and then the other — they all press against her heart and body so she can barely breathe.
“It’s beautiful,” she says, and Wishbone feels her heart release a heavy sigh it had been holding in for too long. “Thank you for coming with me, Lilliana.”
@[lilliana]