Its quiet here, cold, but she doesn’t mind the cold- not really. She doesn’t not mind it either, Bly is simply indifferent about the weather, she could care less even. The seasons change and she blinks out to each them, noticing the way the leaves thicken and fall but not once seeing the remarkable colors to accompany them. In spring the birds twitter and twirl in circles along the warm breezes but if they were a robin or a jay she couldn’t tell you, not anymore. Once she had been suffocated with a Mother’s love. Suffocated- if only most were so lucky. Once long ago she had suffered such an unterrible life but she doesn’t remember the way it used to be, she only knows what it is now. A dull, colorless world and she’s left to feel nothing for any of it.
Snow falls in thick, fat, flurries landing where it may but not sticking to the still yellowing grasses. She stands alone, away from the few others that linger in the Meadows today, starring to the north and the mountains that cut jagged lines against the hazy sky. Alone and bright orange to red, like a fire lit against the cold, one that doesn’t burn. Her mane tangles in softer colors, pastel purples, a whisper compared to the shouts of her firey hued skin. Her stomach’s wide again, as it often seems to be and the one to claim her is the one thing that holds even an ounce of familiarity. When he comes to her she cowers, rightly so, the very sound of his voice sends fear through her veins and burns them colder than her icy heart ever would.
Bly would never feel love again but that didn’t mean she was free from the Dark God, that didn’t mean that she was free from his wrath or the way he made her tremble when he pressed his heavy weight against her. A few others had taken the little mare before, and for them she held little regard, remaining still and quiet as they fulfilled what they saw as their ‘duty’. They were passing flies, their bites lasting mere moments before she batted them away once again. Only that one dark being, with deep cold eyes could unsettle her now and she closed her eyes to wince away the thought.
The bitter wind reminds her that it is winter, the flakes that tickle her nose give her need to remember and again she is alone - staying thoughts of Dark Gods for another day.
Snow falls in thick, fat, flurries landing where it may but not sticking to the still yellowing grasses. She stands alone, away from the few others that linger in the Meadows today, starring to the north and the mountains that cut jagged lines against the hazy sky. Alone and bright orange to red, like a fire lit against the cold, one that doesn’t burn. Her mane tangles in softer colors, pastel purples, a whisper compared to the shouts of her firey hued skin. Her stomach’s wide again, as it often seems to be and the one to claim her is the one thing that holds even an ounce of familiarity. When he comes to her she cowers, rightly so, the very sound of his voice sends fear through her veins and burns them colder than her icy heart ever would.
Bly would never feel love again but that didn’t mean she was free from the Dark God, that didn’t mean that she was free from his wrath or the way he made her tremble when he pressed his heavy weight against her. A few others had taken the little mare before, and for them she held little regard, remaining still and quiet as they fulfilled what they saw as their ‘duty’. They were passing flies, their bites lasting mere moments before she batted them away once again. Only that one dark being, with deep cold eyes could unsettle her now and she closed her eyes to wince away the thought.
The bitter wind reminds her that it is winter, the flakes that tickle her nose give her need to remember and again she is alone - staying thoughts of Dark Gods for another day.
a colorless existence, never tasting life's delirium
Just some chit chat, not looking for herds or kingdom or anything