[private] Why Bother? [Cress] - Printable Version +- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum) +-- Forum: Explore (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: The Common Lands (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=72) +---- Forum: Forest (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=73) +---- Thread: [private] Why Bother? [Cress] (/showthread.php?tid=22050) |
Why Bother? [Cress] - Dalten - 12-12-2018 DALTEN THERE IS SOMEONE OUT THERE WITH A WOUND IN THE EXACT SHAPE OF YOUR WORDS @[Cress] RE: Why Bother? [Cress] - Cress - 12-12-2018 cRess It has been days—weeks, even—since the genie woman healed her of the plague, and even though her symptoms have healed without a trace, she finds it hard to believe that the plague is truly gone from her veins. The weakness, the blood, the fever, the shakes... gone, just like that. She had realized later that the fatigue wasn’t from the sickness itself—it was from within her, as she sapped all of her energy into keeping herself alive and well enough to put on the front for the others in the Resort. Tiphon had given her some of his own energy, true, but she had long since burned that up before even trying to heal Heartfire. It’s terrifying to think that it nearly killed her. She is still young, and death is a haunting presence that had been hanging over her head without her even realizing it. Sure, she has lived and loved and mothered three children, but she is nowhere near ready to pass on into the next world. She has so much that she has left to do, so many things she wants to accomplish; So many hearts and wounds she wants to heal. Her golden wings catch her as she lands on the sandy shores of the river that borders the Forest and she, much like her polar bear daughter, is sorely tempted to splash up to her belly in order to cool off. It has been a hot summer in Beqanna this year and living in one of the southernmost tips of the land means that she swims in the rivers and ocean quite often to keep cool, using her powerful wings to float in the currents. She takes a few steps towards the water, but something—someone—draws her attention away. A dappled stallion is lowering himself to the dirt, clearly as much over the heat of the day as she is, and her eyes widen as she recognizes a face from her childhood. He has grown and filled out and lightened some with age, but there’s no mistaking him. “Dalten,” she calls, praying that he remembers her, too. They had met as young adults, before Beqanna changed. Before the Dark God, and before the comfort of Flamevein’s fires. It all seems like so long ago now. “How have you been?” she asks him, an echo of their first conversation. Please remember me. RE: Why Bother? [Cress] - Dalten - 12-12-2018 DALTEN THERE IS SOMEONE OUT THERE WITH A WOUND IN THE EXACT SHAPE OF YOUR WORDS @[Cress] RE: Why Bother? [Cress] - Cress - 12-17-2018 cRess While Cress has certainly lived in her years on Beqanna, she’s not sure she would call it thriving. To her, the only good things in her life are her children. Her mother is dead, Flamevein and Ledger have both vanished to who knows where, and her father is a grumpy old man who would rather be left alone than anything else. Her one true home was destroyed long ago and most of the friends she’s made along the way probably don’t even remember her. She tries not to dwell on the past too much, because it hurts. She doesn’t like to think of the pain her family and loved ones have caused her, or to think back to the torture she had been dragged through just because the Dark God needed some new playthings. Dalten shakes and a layer of dust takes to the sky, slowly dissipating into the air. “It’s been entirely too long,” she agrees with a nod, brown eyes sparkling as she smiles. Though their conversation so long ago had been brief, she would still consider him a friend. Then again, Cress hardly meets anyone she wouldn’t think of as friend. It’s perhaps her hamartia, her fatal flaw. One day she will trust someone too much... but she tries not to think about that. She can sense the lie in his voice when he speaks, but she doesn’t push it. She watches him as his eyes trace her body, and she wonders if it is so obvious that she has bared children. She doesn’t think so, but she has never seen herself through the eyes of a stranger and she is suddenly self-conscious. He assumes that she has been well and she chuckles dryly. “I would not call it well,” she tells him. “I’m certainly missing a couple body parts that I’m sure were still there the last time we talked”—though her lack of ears could certainly be missed if one wasn’t looking closely—“and it seems any relationship I build is doomed to fail. But other than that, sure, I’ve been well.” @Dalten |