02-19-2022, 06:58 PM
Lillibet
Despite the ease and comfort with which she navigates it, Pangea does not feel like it is truly hers. She hasn’t voiced it aloud, though there are times she finds herself feeling troubled in the middle of the night, wondering at why this could be. More often than not, she blames it on the fall of the South. Leaving Sylva had not been her decision - it had been decided for her by the dark god Carnage. Leave, or die. Her sense of self-preservation had not allowed her to stay in the golden forest for any longer than her animal instincts had deemed safe. Another part of her, too, likes to think that the canyon wasteland does not feel like hers because it’s not. She can learn its secrets and choose to reside within it, but Pangea is no more hers than anyone else who chooses to rest their head within the sandstone walls. That’s why it’s easy for her to share in its ownership with Fyr as they continue to speak in the middle of the night - she has not done more than him, or any of them, to make it hers.
Lillibet smiles at Fyr’s indirect answer to her inquiry, but she does not push him. Instead, she begins moving herself slowly through the water and back toward the bank where her companion stands, unhurried and careful as her hooves find their footing beneath the inky black river. The night’s cool air accosts her wet legs when she has finally pulled herself from the current and another shiver creeps up her spine despite the flames that dance around her.
Instinctively, the alabaster woman sidles closer to Fyr and hums appreciatively in his heat. “Don’t burn me,” she requests with a low voice and a playful smirk before she tugs her honeyed eyes from him to survey the canyon basin that lay drenched in moonlight before them. She allows silence to fall between them for a time, and though there is space for Fyr to continue speaking if he chooses, Lillibet is pleased to find that the lack of conversation does not come with an awkward silence, but instead warmth and familiarity.
“I miss them,” she finally breaks the silence with a vulnerability that has risen suddenly in her mind. She bites the inside of her cheek, quite certain that she does not enjoy the act of sharing her feelings with anyone other than Link. But it’s the similarities she shares with Fyr that remind her there are not many people for her to confide in about the South or those who are still missing, and as much as she wants to sidle close to the moonlit stallion and continue their coy conversations, in this moment she simply needs to feel her own sadness.
