03-19-2017, 07:29 PM
Misra
i'd go to hell and back with you; stay lost in what we've found.
Time had stolen too much from her - each day, the sun would rise and fall, bringing with it an empty, quiet night devoid of meaning. The days had faded into years, wasted away beneath an ever changing moon and its broad starlit canopy, yet none of it had brushed against her skin - she was as youthful as ever, though her deep, soulful eyes had grown weary and worn. Change had taken away everything that she had ever known, everything that she had come to call her own - the silver painted cove washed away into the salty sea; the deep thicket of the chamber that had kept her (though it had never kept her heart; it had only been a place of rest - a momentary stay, she can see that now) swallowed up whole. She had settled into complacency, content to simply be but as time moved tirelessly, she found herself growing restless for something more, for something to fill the gaping void festering within the barbed wire of her breast. Though her heart longed to be tucked within the thick, fur lining of the one she had come to love, there was a part of her that had become numb - uneasy and anxious, and too often, she stole away from his side in the middle of the night, tucking herself within the dark shadow of the sky with her feathered appendages outstretched wide, bathing in the pale moonlight.
When fatigue finally set in, she tucked herself into the thick of the forest, pressing the hollowed bones of her tired wings against the dry, brittle bark of an oak. Her blunt teeth begin to gently pluck and preen at the delicate, silver-lined feathers, tucking them into place as a gentle, icy breeze weaves its way between each one. Once content, her dark doe eyes search the darkness, peering up towards the open canopy - and above her, the sky is glorious, splattered with bright, glittering stars.
And suddenly - a shadow, a dark figure hidden within the midnight canvas, and a voice - a voice, so familiar that her heart begins to hammer against the iron cage of her chest, leaving her breathless.
Misra, it calls -
"Kirin?" she breathes, disbelief laced within her soft voice. And then, louder, "Kirin!"
worlds apart, we were the same until we hit the ground.