tangerine
face to the sun
Tangerine’s mind refuses to fully awaken. With her lids weighed down by seep, she turns her head to look towards whoever may be approaching. Nearly dripping starlight, a girl stands not so far away, looking at her. The stranger appears silver in the midnight light, her coat reflecting light in the most unusual way.
“Who are you?” The starlight girl asks, slumber heavy in her voice.
Tangerine thinks, treading water in her mind. The tide of sleep refusing to release her. She drifts between present and past.
“I don’t know what I am” Tang had told Warrick - in the gloom and the mist when he had placed kisses one by one down her spine.
“You are the ocean...” Warrick had told her, his voice deep as the crashing of waves.
“Mahal,” Amet had called her, with a sparkle in his eye.
“…constantly moving and unstoppable.” They had agreed - but at separate times, in separate worlds.
“I am Tang.” She settles for, her swirling dreams receding but still pooling around her ankles. Choices where more difficult at night, and Tang had never been good at choosing to start with.
“…You know my brother.” Says the sister of the dragon king. Not a question, not an accusation, a statement. Tang searches her tone for any hint of hostility or amusement, but the girl is unreadable.
Iset. The name surfaces in her mind.
“My relationship with them is rocky at best.” He had confessed to her, on that day when he almost told her his secret. The day he had called her his friend.
And Tang turns then, slowly and quietly reaching her velvet muzzle out to Iset, an olive branch under the stars. “I know your brother.” She affirms, as gently as the salty breeze.
“But I don’t know you.”
@[Bai] Hey! have fun in Jamaica! no rush on this