12-15-2021, 10:58 PM
Este
She watches with a small smile as the red panda disappears up a tree, and she realizes it is one of the first times she has managed anything close to a smile in days. Perhaps leaving Hyaline for the evening was going to turn into just the distraction she needed; to finally see a face and speak with someone that did not know her mother, to have a conversation that was not haunted by the fact that her mother’s body was resting somewhere in the mountain kingdom, shielded by her brother’s magic.
To want to escape her grief made her feel guilty, and it takes a concentrated effort to ignore the discomfort in her chest. Her quiet brown eyes focus on the young stallion before her perhaps a little too intently, as if somehow his face and this conversation is going to keep her from sinking further into the despair she has made her home in.
“I don’t think I dream anymore,” she tells him, not fully understanding what he was actually referring to. She has never met anyone that can manipulate dreams—did not even know such a thing existed. She knows only of her own dreams, but it has been weeks since she last dreamt. Sleep was already such a rarity for her these days, and when it did find her it was fitful and restless.
Her sleep was only dark, with sparks of emotions and things she couldn’t name or see, and she doesn’t think it serves as much of an escape.
“I would have escaped reality long ago if I knew how,” she says with a grim smile and a short, dull laugh. She is being depressing, she knows. This man is going to think she is the most miserable thing he has ever met, and the part of her that still exists beneath the rubble of her heartbreak wants to amend that. “My name is Este, by the way,” she tries forcing her voice to sound lighter, and a soft, blush-pink light begins to glow beneath her skin, as if she could somehow fool him into thinking she was not drowning in darkness.
To want to escape her grief made her feel guilty, and it takes a concentrated effort to ignore the discomfort in her chest. Her quiet brown eyes focus on the young stallion before her perhaps a little too intently, as if somehow his face and this conversation is going to keep her from sinking further into the despair she has made her home in.
“I don’t think I dream anymore,” she tells him, not fully understanding what he was actually referring to. She has never met anyone that can manipulate dreams—did not even know such a thing existed. She knows only of her own dreams, but it has been weeks since she last dreamt. Sleep was already such a rarity for her these days, and when it did find her it was fitful and restless.
Her sleep was only dark, with sparks of emotions and things she couldn’t name or see, and she doesn’t think it serves as much of an escape.
“I would have escaped reality long ago if I knew how,” she says with a grim smile and a short, dull laugh. She is being depressing, she knows. This man is going to think she is the most miserable thing he has ever met, and the part of her that still exists beneath the rubble of her heartbreak wants to amend that. “My name is Este, by the way,” she tries forcing her voice to sound lighter, and a soft, blush-pink light begins to glow beneath her skin, as if she could somehow fool him into thinking she was not drowning in darkness.
YOU'VE GOT YOUR DEMONS AND DARLING THEY ALL LOOK LIKE ME
@Anubias