Gave you a minute when you needed an hour // Any

[Sabra]

Sabra

There is conflict on her face, and I can only guess what causes it. I am about as welcome as snow in midsummer, but I'm here, and she's said I may stay. That, as far as I'm concerned, is that. What else there is to decide, I'm sure I don't know. 

Then, bizarrely, her expression changes. The tension melts like sugar on a tongue. Her eyes soften and her shoulders relax and I blink in confusion at the sudden change. I realize only after she speaks that she has given me a preview of the power she mentions, and my lip curls in response. 

Meddling with my emotions? Has that not been done enough? My head shakes with curt defiance, the magic acting on me amplifying the lack of trust I already experience. "No. I think not. It hurts, but at least the pain is honest." I'm curt with this, the crystal of my eyes hardening against the placid grey gaze that meets them. I own the pain, not the other way around, and I'll be damned to let the magic of another dull the pain just to ease my discomfort temporarily. That kind of magic is addictive, and I won't find myself begging for more when that first dose wears off. 

The dull feathers of my wings shuffle in the light breeze the mountains funnel through their valleys, my legs weary of standing in one place. The rough edges of my isolation are rising up around me in an unforgiving wall, tired of playing nice, tired of explaining myself. 

"Anything else? Or am I free to pass." I hope it's the latter. I'd like nothing more than a knoll to rest in right now, a drink and a warm patch of sun. Simple, easy pleasantries that you miss terribly when you're dead. The weariness passes briefly over my face, covered again quickly with my icy mask. If she has other questions I may just lie here while she asks them, rude or not.

I wanna be Immortal, like a God in the sky


I wanna be a silk flower, like I'm never gonna die

Photo by Kareva Margarita

@[Lepis]