we are crooked souls trying to stay up straight
What troubles you so, king Warrick, that you should seek answers from the sea?Her voice is delicate on his ears, hushed against the churning of the waves yet still clear and strong enough to be heard on the wind. His mind is as frantic as the sea, and in his solitary thoughts he had become lost to the frothing waters and spitting wind, not giving himself the chance to have heard her approach. Her voice is unfamiliar - the tinkling of sea glass across the sand - and when his wide, solemn eyes turn to meet her, he recognizes her at once. “Saedis,” he murmurs quietly, mostly to himself than to the white mare. Beneath the starlight she is ethereal, her flawless coat soaking in the colors of the night that sparkle around them, where the softness of the winking stars blink overhead. He purses his lips thoughtfully at her question, thinking of all the things he could truly say to one of the newest residents of Tephra. Ellyse and Dahmer have gone, Offspring as well (dead?), and now another has crossed over into new life (Diable Rouge...how is it even possible?). One of his closest friends still holds anger in her heart for him, and all the while he can only think of the safety and protection of everyone else...the children, the newly pregnant mares, his own dear and sweet Tangerine, his precious new daughter…
Instead, he inhales a sharp breath, the taste of salt and smoke pungent on his tongue, and exhales in a rumbling sigh. She must know - the way her eyes softly trace the hard features of his face and rest knowingly on his solemn eyes - that turmoil churns beneath the surface of his skin, rampant and raging beneath a stoic facade. And so he does not respond quickly, and instead allows the salted wind to tug at his dark mane and tail, to brush at the finely preened navy of his feathers in attempts to scatter them haphazardly at his sides.
“To what will I look for help if I will not look to that which is stronger than myself?”
I am but a small nothing in this great, wide world.
His gaze has turned back out to the sea, though a slight sparkle seems to have caught in his blue eyes. He sighs, shifting his gaze upwards to look at the many constellations and galaxies that spin lazily above them, not remembering the last time he had gazed upon them with a clear mind. He desperately wishes to change the subject, to shift the focus off of him, so while he revels in the starlight that had comforted him as a child, he asks her:
“What is it you look to?”
Warrick
@[Saedìs]