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<I>of all the strange things</I> ANY - Uconn - 11-01-2016
RE: <I>of all the strange things</I> ANY - australis - 11-02-2016 She had grown up in the Tundra, too, had fallen in love with a world so big that it could be both busy with new faces and quieter at the outskirts. Unlike her father, she had never loved the political side of the kingdom, had no mind for war or peace, or even castes at all for that matter. She had only been a princess by blood, never by choice. In that way she was much more like her mother, wild and untethered, but bound to the Tundra by her love for its King. Australis stayed because she was bound to the mountains, to the aching blue sky swept with stars overhead. But all that was gone now. The day is bright, the kind that leaves you with a headache at its end for the way the sun makes you squint when it bounces and flashes in a thousand different places across the gleaming snow-glaze. It is still her favorite, though, this winter season, this little sliver of home that continues to thrive in an otherwise changed world. The cold is like a balm against her skin, and she doesn’t notice the teeth of ice in the wind when it rushes through the tangles of her dark mane. She turns her gaze out across the meadow, those eyes soft and bright and dark all at once. When they pause it is on the face of a stranger, and in some way she recognizes something in him that pulls a smile across her mouth. It’s the conflict she sees etched in the shadow of his face, a tension or a worry, and it reminds her of Tobiah and how much he disliked socializing. Before this stranger has a chance to turn back and disappear into the shadows, she pushes forward to join him, pressing her nose against his neck in quiet greeting. This close, she can see the starkness of his skin, the places where new snowflakes land and hold for a second before melting into a velvety black. They remind her of stars, of the sky above her mountains. “Hello,” she says, and her voice is soft, gentle, just a chime of sound at his shoulder because she does not want to shatter the peace of the day, “I’m Australis.” Then she is quiet again, content as she turns her gaze back out across a landscape that still feels new even though the old kingdoms have been gone for so long. With a sigh, a solemn sound, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to not seeing the Tundra mountains beneath the skyline,” and then, belatedly, “they were home, once.” RE: <I>of all the strange things</I> ANY - australis - 11-04-2016 He touches her neck in return and his gentleness earns the soft curve of a smile against her whiskered lips. It isn’t always like that, the kindness. Sometimes the gesture earns her a grumble or a scowl or the pinning of ears. But the family she came from was whole and strong and so deeply tangled that embraces came easily and touch was meant to soothe and comfort. It is reflex now, after so many years, a learned habit from watching her parents together, from being well loved and well protected. Uconn. He tells her, sharing his name with a sense of hesitancy she doesn’t quite understand. So she tilts her head at him gently, pausing, touching her nose back against the snow-damp of his shoulder. “It’s a good name,” she tells him with another smile, “it suits you.” She smiles again and pulls her chin back to her chest, remaining close enough to his side that she can feel their shared warmth steaming between them. This is how she remembers the Tundra – the wild beauty of the cold forcing strangers together, and how the awkwardness had been erased by a shared desire for staying warm. But his sigh disarms her, and she can almost feel his sorrow when it comes rushing in around them, battering them aside. Her eyes are dark and bright when they lift to his face, steadying there in time to catch the confession that spills unexpectedly from his dark lips. “Oh!” She breathes, surprised. “You came from the Tundra, too?” There is something good about this moment, something right, like the feeling of finding family you hadn’t realized you were missing. She reaches out instinctively, brushing her nose against the curve of his jaw in a way that showed him exactly how she felt. Family. And then there is snow and distance between them, just a little, as she steps back to see if she recognizes those patterns of white and black, or the beautiful wings that arch from his withers. But his face, albeit a kind one, is wholly unfamiliar and she can feel the way her brow furrows with disappoint. She settles in beside him again, comfortable, peering up at him sideways from beneath the tangles of a dark, unruly forelock. “It is different,” she agrees, especially for him she realizes as she traces the feathers of his wings and wonders if he had lost something else, “but the closer you look, the more you’ll recognize it.” She sighs, her tongue tracing the ridges of smooth teeth inside her mouth. “A lot of the old kingdoms came together again. The Tundra, Chamber, and Valley honored their old alliance and claimed Tephra together.” She pauses, quiet for a heartbeat before continuing again in a voice like whispered birdsong. “It is different, though. Enough to still hurt a little.” RE: <I>of all the strange things</I> ANY - Uconn - 11-09-2016
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