11-10-2021, 06:21 PM
LILLIBET
a star burning with the
light of a thousand suns
light of a thousand suns
Her sleep schedule has been intermittent and chaotic as of late. She awakes abruptly in the early morning - bright eyed with no hopes of returning to slumber - when the sky is still dark and the twinkling stars are the only light to greet her. Even they are obscured by the autumn-colored canopy. She makes her own, though, and lights the red forest with her muted ambience as she explores its shadowy corners. Lillibet has learned there is nothing to fear in the depths of Sylva; only Manikin, who she still considers a friend. Perhaps she would feel differently if she knew the way the hippogryph had once altered her memory.
The snow is knee-deep and hides the gold striping on her legs except for the moments she bounds over top of the drifts. The rest of her, an ethereal ivory, gleams brightly as the sun slowly transforms the sky from deep blue to light purple. She rests beside a small creek to watch the sunrise through the clearing in the branches, oblivious to everything outside her own thoughts until the voice of a stranger shatters the early morning silence.
She whips her head around, the pupils in her amber eyes narrowing as her gaze works to find the source of the voice through the red sumacs. “Who's asking?” she calls back through the woods with a voice that's lilting and playful, though her muscles are taut and ready whether she needs to dart or defend herself.
Her father, especially, would not have allowed her to make it to the cusp of her third birthday without knowing how to defend herself. After all, Link had been the lucky one. All she'd inherited from her parents was the ability to glow.
The snow is knee-deep and hides the gold striping on her legs except for the moments she bounds over top of the drifts. The rest of her, an ethereal ivory, gleams brightly as the sun slowly transforms the sky from deep blue to light purple. She rests beside a small creek to watch the sunrise through the clearing in the branches, oblivious to everything outside her own thoughts until the voice of a stranger shatters the early morning silence.
She whips her head around, the pupils in her amber eyes narrowing as her gaze works to find the source of the voice through the red sumacs. “Who's asking?” she calls back through the woods with a voice that's lilting and playful, though her muscles are taut and ready whether she needs to dart or defend herself.
Her father, especially, would not have allowed her to make it to the cusp of her third birthday without knowing how to defend herself. After all, Link had been the lucky one. All she'd inherited from her parents was the ability to glow.