[open] Speak So Lightly

[Bathory]

Sunlight, how it made her ache. If she were to flee from it, would it follow her? If she were to hide in the deepest waters and never surface, would the feeling of its warm rays still stay within her? Or perhaps...yes, perhaps the cold of her heart would destroy that too. Destruction is necessary for evolution, it is necessary to feel pain in order to grow. You cannot march to the top of the world unscathed and claim to have seen everything. She intended to sit upon a throne made from her victories, and make those who hurt her kneel within their own blood, praise the queen they so denied, hail the god they refused to sing to. Oh, how envy embraced her so tightly when the souls of the world prayed to the sky, how they looked upon the sun and praised its beauty.

This light did not age, it did not tire, hiding only when it must make room for the moon to dance among the stars. But she...she aged every day. She felt it course through her body, she heard the devil rattling his chains, every day it got louder, every day she must run farther. To where, though? Where does one go to escape age, to escape the cold grips of death? These were questions that raced through her mind each day, and so she traveled in search of answers. Would her soul know peace, or would she scour this land until her dying breath, finally losing the battle she so desperately fought? If she were to end before she was ready, she would refuse to leave without a fight, she would kick the flames of Hell to the surface. If she could not be the light they worshiped, she would be the scourge they feared.

For now, her journey lead her here, the sun beamed down on her pale, spotted coat as she made her way towards a cascade of water. The waltz of the ripples entranced her, beckoning her closer, and she complied, the cool liquid kissed her soft lips so gently. Muscles relaxed as she sipped the cold water, refreshing her parched throat after her long travels. It was not often she saw something so serene, and not often she let herself slip into the calm of the atmosphere; however, here seemed too peaceful to simply ignore. Small blades of grass gently brushed her striped hooves as she drank her fill, and the wind told gentle stories in passing, delicately dancing around her ears and caressing her long locks of hair. Few moments were so tranquil, and she basked in every moment. Perhaps here she would find the answers she had been seeking.

bathory

it's torture time my little child

[Aquaria]

She did not visit the field very often. Let alone in the dead of winter. It was difficult for the water mare to traverse the bitter land, the ice crusted earth that crackles beneath her hooves. It was as alien to her as a barren desert would be, as far removed from her oceanic home as the moon. Still, she figured it wouldn't hurt anymore that she visited it before returning to the island. 

The pearl woman walked slowly, each step a calculation. The snow was not thick here, just a dusting overlaid on frost patched grass. The trick was not slipping on the hidden patches of ice where water had pooled. Her divided focus delayed her notice of the pale woman who drank from a still-flowing creek. Fast water did not freeze as easily as still. 

Smiling in her elegant way, the nereid approached with her easy, floating gait. Her large, amethyst eyes blinked liquidly as she took in the bloody stained coat of the woman, wondering what could have caused such marks. "Hello," she cooed as sweetly as the brook. "What brings you to the field? My name is Aquaria, may I know yours?" She asked, head thrown delicately as she spoke. 

The weak winter's sun rested on her back, barely noticeable in the cold. How she longed to be home, hopefully before the sun set and took his meager heat with it. It never got this cold in Ischia. Perhaps... Perhaps she could bring this new stranger home with her. 

@[Bathory]