02-25-2018, 07:07 AM
The night is still, like her heart, caught in a beat between longing and restlessness; still, as if holding its breath, waiting in the path of looming clouds. She does not shy from his touch; she shares a kinship with this osprey-stallion she has no right to feel, for they are but strangers under the watchful eye of stars. But she can feel the change in him, how the edges of his flesh tremble, and how her own sadness turns to smoke between his lips. Perhaps that is his curse – loving too fiercely, giving too much of himself to those that calls these shores their home. He is shale and bedrock… Saedís is starfire.
”Don´t apologize” she says; soft, breathy and unworldly. ”We all carry them.” and her summer’s smile matches that of his own, sea-spray light and silver-bright.
Will you be, Warrick, the one who leads her home? The one who she will follow footfall to footfall?
Like tree and leaf they are then, these two souls. Where Warrick lay rooted to the earth of his homeland and its reality so Saedís will grow, change, and fall from the branches she has put her trust in. But perhaps they will need each other; swapping dreams for sanity and pain for comfort? The question stands true, for it is the leaf who needs the tree, and not the other way around. So does Saedís put her trust in you, Warrick, for you remind her of the stone that stands against the river; and these dangerous memories may one day be her unwinding. She puts her trust in you, because you were meant to lead. And she, to follow? In some ways, yes.
For some strange, unholy reason, this draws a bubbling, startling laugh from between her lips – birdsong and bell-chimes. Again, she is the child of the stars, of bright-shine and silver-glitter. For Saedís cannot stay somber for long. She is made for sunshine dreams and smiles and laughter.
Perhaps the curse of trusting has turned profitable this time. She wants to curl up under the watchful eye of Warrick and stay there until the world is less complicated; until she has lost her memories and her past. She wants to indulge in the story that dances just below the warmth of those ocean-eyes - just out of her reach.
”So am I” she admits; simply, softly.
”Tell me about Tephra Warrick, how did you know you were meant to stay here? What did she promise to instill your loyalty?”
She wonders quietly if loyalty is a concept she can learn to grasp.