09-07-2021, 10:55 AM
let it all come out and burn like a fire
She has always been drawn to the fae things. The pretty and the strange. But then, she is a self-absorbed creature, as capricious and fickle as the ones who had convinced Galadriel to remain stagnant and sour. If they had met in days gone past, she would easily have been one of those devils whispering on her shoulder, convincing her to be little more than a vain, pretty thing.
After all, the vain and pretty love to love one another.
Wrenley has never doubted her own beauty. Even before the soft curls of twilight had settled on her skin, she had known her own worth. Now however, after the enchantments of evening had seen fit to bestow their gifts upon her, she knows it beyond any shadow of doubt. She had grown from a creature built from the loveliness of shadow to one made to bathe in the glow of the setting sun. She is meant to be seen and admired, and she has ensured she would be both.
She sees the other woman of course, lovely in the way only something glistening beneath the gleam of water could be. It reminds of a girl she’d met moons past, and she is curious. She does not try to hide (she is not made to be hidden), and when the glittering woman’s eyes find her, a smile dances across her sunset lips.
She shifts, the elegant sway of her body somehow drawing the essence of evening in each movement. The long strands of her blossom strewn locks curl around her neck, draping her like the most exquisite of gowns, scenting the air with evening in bloom. She eyes her a moment, chin tipping up slightly, giving her a haughty grace. That was something she had mastered long ago.
“Of course,” she croons, her voice as melodic as her movements. “But you do not,” the nymph continues, knowledge in her jewel-bright gaze. It's hard to say whether it is welcome or dismissal in her painfully lovely features however. “Unless you have come to stay, rather than pass through.”
After all, the vain and pretty love to love one another.
Wrenley has never doubted her own beauty. Even before the soft curls of twilight had settled on her skin, she had known her own worth. Now however, after the enchantments of evening had seen fit to bestow their gifts upon her, she knows it beyond any shadow of doubt. She had grown from a creature built from the loveliness of shadow to one made to bathe in the glow of the setting sun. She is meant to be seen and admired, and she has ensured she would be both.
She sees the other woman of course, lovely in the way only something glistening beneath the gleam of water could be. It reminds of a girl she’d met moons past, and she is curious. She does not try to hide (she is not made to be hidden), and when the glittering woman’s eyes find her, a smile dances across her sunset lips.
She shifts, the elegant sway of her body somehow drawing the essence of evening in each movement. The long strands of her blossom strewn locks curl around her neck, draping her like the most exquisite of gowns, scenting the air with evening in bloom. She eyes her a moment, chin tipping up slightly, giving her a haughty grace. That was something she had mastered long ago.
“Of course,” she croons, her voice as melodic as her movements. “But you do not,” the nymph continues, knowledge in her jewel-bright gaze. It's hard to say whether it is welcome or dismissal in her painfully lovely features however. “Unless you have come to stay, rather than pass through.”
Wrenley
@galadriel