Lilli’s blue eyes remain fixated on the edges of Ryatah’s wings, the gold that filigrees them. A childhood habit she can’t seem to outgrow.
When Lilliana raises them, her slight head tilts towards the winged mare. The smile that comes is hesitant, like the chestnut is mulling over words like galaxies might contemplate a single star. "And how would you know what's up there?” comes her soft rebuttal, followed with an impishness that brings a spark of life on her refined features.
The Taigan mare looks up, only to be greeted with the dense foliage of the changing leaves above them.
When she looks back at @[Ryatah], Lilliana feels herself relaxing into the delicate glow that she radiates. "I’ve heard that it’s where secrets go, where dreams linger so they aren’t truly forgotten.” Those had been the explanations given to her, anyway. And Lilliana had always loved that: imagining that for every star in the sky, each had their own orbits of dreamers and secret-keepers alike.
Her smile threatens to turn lopsided, mischievous with a dimple that rarely emerges these days already lines against her dark mouth. "I’ll take your word for it, though.” She’s accepted that she will always be earthbound. Her view of the heavens will always be from down here. A question lingers in her blue-eyed gaze, wondering for a moment if Ryatah might share her views.
"I’ve been better,” she admits under a hushed breath. "I think.” Lilliana shifts her weight and lifts her head, her ears flickering back and forth before they settle again. "The forest feels empty,” she says, thinking of Aten and the ghosts that linger on their borders. (If only it stayed empty.) A shadow crosses across her face before she flashes a tentative smile, "But my boys are growing.”
They had spoken about that last time - how children could be a claim to immortality. (It’s still a span of time she can’t fathom. One lifetime is enough.)
Something happens when the white mare touches the gold marking on her shoulder; the world shifts. A slip in her emotions. Shades of sunset paint the sky, the proud rise of sand dunes, an echo of a gold mare as she battles with an orange-eyed stallion. The palomino mare sinks into the sand with the setting sun behind her; lower, lower, lower until they are both gone.
A bird trills in the branches above them, calling them back. Lilliana steps back, whispering, "I’m sorry.”
When Lilliana raises them, her slight head tilts towards the winged mare. The smile that comes is hesitant, like the chestnut is mulling over words like galaxies might contemplate a single star. "And how would you know what's up there?” comes her soft rebuttal, followed with an impishness that brings a spark of life on her refined features.
The Taigan mare looks up, only to be greeted with the dense foliage of the changing leaves above them.
When she looks back at @[Ryatah], Lilliana feels herself relaxing into the delicate glow that she radiates. "I’ve heard that it’s where secrets go, where dreams linger so they aren’t truly forgotten.” Those had been the explanations given to her, anyway. And Lilliana had always loved that: imagining that for every star in the sky, each had their own orbits of dreamers and secret-keepers alike.
Her smile threatens to turn lopsided, mischievous with a dimple that rarely emerges these days already lines against her dark mouth. "I’ll take your word for it, though.” She’s accepted that she will always be earthbound. Her view of the heavens will always be from down here. A question lingers in her blue-eyed gaze, wondering for a moment if Ryatah might share her views.
"I’ve been better,” she admits under a hushed breath. "I think.” Lilliana shifts her weight and lifts her head, her ears flickering back and forth before they settle again. "The forest feels empty,” she says, thinking of Aten and the ghosts that linger on their borders. (If only it stayed empty.) A shadow crosses across her face before she flashes a tentative smile, "But my boys are growing.”
They had spoken about that last time - how children could be a claim to immortality. (It’s still a span of time she can’t fathom. One lifetime is enough.)
Something happens when the white mare touches the gold marking on her shoulder; the world shifts. A slip in her emotions. Shades of sunset paint the sky, the proud rise of sand dunes, an echo of a gold mare as she battles with an orange-eyed stallion. The palomino mare sinks into the sand with the setting sun behind her; lower, lower, lower until they are both gone.
A bird trills in the branches above them, calling them back. Lilliana steps back, whispering, "I’m sorry.”
but it's all in the past, love
it's all gone with the wind