The trees are made of earth and bark, or soul and heart. Their flesh is hardwearing and even though I may have scarred the trunks with insignia, they will heal, they will wear them like trophies and remain ever stronger. I admit the earth, the way the grass grows from a cold winter's spell. the way that the flowing rapids of a river can ice right up. The way that the summer heat can manipulate the flowers and the weeds. That is power, that is something in itself. And it is the mother of nature that we learn from. We are born from the earth and we will die, returning to the earth in ash and in bone.
My thoughts crumble, like tiny pieces of jigsaw fragments. Such contemplations are made for dreary winter days, lost beneath a canopy of shadow and branch. But for now, I share the company of an actual like-minded individual and the feeling feels electric. 'The stories, the secrets, oh, the knowledge. And yet, they have no one to tell them to. Have you ever told a tree a secret? One that you'll only take to the grave?' my tone is dark and morbid, that of a curious girl who reaps the graveyard of weeds and calls them flowers. There is a sparkle in my eye, lighting the dark with a sharpness, an intelligence that I owe to the earth, to the mother that bore me, the father that never cared.
'Ah, such a shame. Here I was thinking that I could tell you all my secrets and not worry where they might end up.' A chuckle slips from my lips, cool, crisp and breaks the cool atmosphere of winter's horizon. I stalk forward once more, curious to the way he bends out of my vicinity (I have no sense of close contact and why and when others reject it so. It means nothing really.) My teal and purple toned tail snaps at my hocks, idly, whipping back and forth like a pendulum. Wisps of mane, ribbons of silvery froth fall across my eyes as they watch, ever so curious, the steed. Damian. the martyr. Damian. the conquerer. The smirk that settles across my lips does not fade.
'If one were to force me, they would pay a hefty price. But there is not need to force one when they will follow you willingly.' Like a shadow, melting into another, I step closer, there is no malice nor flirtatious awe in my doings, just simple curiosity, an allure of whimsy and natural magic. I laugh then, a tone strangely soft. 'You conjure such marvellous pictures of the valley. you've sold me already. As long as there is earth and trees and shadows aplenty, I am there.' I dip my nose, it dips into my chest, feeling the steady beating of the heart beyond. It thumps with a newness, a rawness that I have not felt in so long.
'If the Valley is in need of me, then I cannot deny, can I? And what of you, Demian. The conquerer, the martyr. What will you need of me?' I pause, the added suspense of a whimsical smile, all debonair, entices the words like tentative fingers weaving a spell. 'Because they all want something, they all need something.' the glitter in my eye is like stardust, like dew upon morning grass. I take a few shuffling steps backwards, deeper into the throes of the shadow, adoring the way that the umbra takes a blanket over me, washes me something akin to the way the night swallows the day. And I stare, stare with eyes like oblivion, that hold promises and meaning, that watch and study and observe with the intricacy of someone mad but someone with their head screwed on the very right way...
.
j y n x s
here in the forest dark and deep, i offer you, eternal sleep
OOC: I don't even know where I am going with her, but she is quite fun XD