10-16-2018, 02:36 AM
A part of her mind dwells on the phrase, on his words: on the notion that somewhere beyond this world there is the old: the Sisters and the Jaguars, and all those who had come and now were gone. Yet her head lowers, and she closes her dark eyes, allows her ears to press back and the sound of familiar voices to linger in memory where they slept… Aysel, for precious seconds, dreams of her life from before and how it ended when Hel arrived. In the aftermath she lifts her head and looks to Magnus with an easy and relaxed smile, something soft and genuine: something she has not done for some hundred years or more.
The void, the beyond, whatever its name: she recalls it for a moment and she thinks of the endless forests and how vines had rotted on ruins and statues: how gravity lapsed and all the world seemed to be a bizarre mirrored husk of what was.
Death did not exist there, and time was only a rumor… and she shudders to think that may be the end.
Still, she feels the plush, soft nose and the warmth of his breath- the gesture causing her to chuckle and in turn she waits before leaning just slightly against him, enough to perhaps convey the small affection it was meant to give.
On their way, she follows, watches and waits- listens and takes her time to see the changing landscape and all the wild of Beqanna reformed.
Field becomes forest and sand, and soon enough the trees become mossy with lengthy vines clinging to their branches. Stone and soil are mixed with ash and she can smell the moisture and salt… the touch of volcanic sulfur that briefly tinges the air and fades. Her eyes dart and she notes the glossy plants and brilliant flowers, the low mist on the ground and all the shadows that slither this way and that.
For a brief moment she breaks ahead of him, only to step off the pathways and to dart between tree and brush- to return with ash spattering the whites of her stockings and a flower clasped between her lips: delicate and strange, a dark purple almost black that resembled a sort of bat. Playful in essence Aysel returns to him and continues moving: preening the bat flower into her own mane. “I remember these, they are a hardy flower if odd. But, ah, I see,” she stop as he does, the warmth spreading through her.
“It is beautiful, I could not have expected to see such a thing again. My heart, ah- it aches.” the latter, she sighs at, swallowing as if not meant to say it aloud but, too late to take it back. “And yet, it is a pleasant ache, a pain I have not long felt before.”
The void, the beyond, whatever its name: she recalls it for a moment and she thinks of the endless forests and how vines had rotted on ruins and statues: how gravity lapsed and all the world seemed to be a bizarre mirrored husk of what was.
Death did not exist there, and time was only a rumor… and she shudders to think that may be the end.
Still, she feels the plush, soft nose and the warmth of his breath- the gesture causing her to chuckle and in turn she waits before leaning just slightly against him, enough to perhaps convey the small affection it was meant to give.
On their way, she follows, watches and waits- listens and takes her time to see the changing landscape and all the wild of Beqanna reformed.
Field becomes forest and sand, and soon enough the trees become mossy with lengthy vines clinging to their branches. Stone and soil are mixed with ash and she can smell the moisture and salt… the touch of volcanic sulfur that briefly tinges the air and fades. Her eyes dart and she notes the glossy plants and brilliant flowers, the low mist on the ground and all the shadows that slither this way and that.
For a brief moment she breaks ahead of him, only to step off the pathways and to dart between tree and brush- to return with ash spattering the whites of her stockings and a flower clasped between her lips: delicate and strange, a dark purple almost black that resembled a sort of bat. Playful in essence Aysel returns to him and continues moving: preening the bat flower into her own mane. “I remember these, they are a hardy flower if odd. But, ah, I see,” she stop as he does, the warmth spreading through her.
“It is beautiful, I could not have expected to see such a thing again. My heart, ah- it aches.” the latter, she sighs at, swallowing as if not meant to say it aloud but, too late to take it back. “And yet, it is a pleasant ache, a pain I have not long felt before.”
A Y S E L
so you can throw me to the wolves
tomorrow i will come back, leader of the whole pack
tomorrow i will come back, leader of the whole pack
@[magnus] <3 that's fine, into the kingdom!