05-21-2020, 02:22 AM
“I know when you go
down all your darkest roads
I would have followed all the way
to the graveyard.”
down all your darkest roads
I would have followed all the way
to the graveyard.”
Her story of the stars is right there on the tip of her tongue, but she can’t bring herself to tell it. She tastes it there, a memory that refuses to fade, but to try and spin it into words she fears wouldn’t do it justice. She has never been much of a storyteller, but even then, it’s really her own selfishness that keeps her from saying anything. There was a part of her that liked having something that existed just between her and him – an entire galaxy – and so even though she could tell Lilliana exactly how the stars feel when they come alive in your veins and how they are so much more than wishes and dreams, she doesn’t say anything.
“Simply an educated guess,” she says with that same nearly hidden smile. “I don’t doubt that the stars are full of secrets, though.” Including her own.
She lets the topic shift, following it seamlessly when Lilliana mentions the quiet of the forest. She says that it feels empty, but Ryatah is not sure if she agrees. To her it feels almost crowded in comparison to Hyaline, with the towering trees that smother the sky with their branches, and the shadows that creep and seem to carry voices with it. “I used to hate when the lands were quiet. For so long I was always doing something that the quiet and the nothing was unnerving. Now I’m so used to it that everywhere else feels crowded and loud.” If she notices the darkness that seems to dim the light on Lilliana’s face she does not comment on it, not yet at least, and instead she lets her own smile brighten at the mention of her children. “Your boys? I think that’s a newer development from the last time I saw you.”
She is about to ask more questions, because if there was any topic she was well-versed in, it was motherhood – not that she was really any good at it – when there is a noticeable change. The way Lilliana seems to disappear from here entirely, her mind so clearly taken to a different place, and then the sharp call of the birds up above and the red mare’s eyes again focus back onto her. Though her expression is one of concern, it is mostly curiosity that itches beneath her skin. “You don’t have to apologize,” and she means it, and her tone remains soft, almost hesitant when she asks, “Is everything alright?”
“Simply an educated guess,” she says with that same nearly hidden smile. “I don’t doubt that the stars are full of secrets, though.” Including her own.
She lets the topic shift, following it seamlessly when Lilliana mentions the quiet of the forest. She says that it feels empty, but Ryatah is not sure if she agrees. To her it feels almost crowded in comparison to Hyaline, with the towering trees that smother the sky with their branches, and the shadows that creep and seem to carry voices with it. “I used to hate when the lands were quiet. For so long I was always doing something that the quiet and the nothing was unnerving. Now I’m so used to it that everywhere else feels crowded and loud.” If she notices the darkness that seems to dim the light on Lilliana’s face she does not comment on it, not yet at least, and instead she lets her own smile brighten at the mention of her children. “Your boys? I think that’s a newer development from the last time I saw you.”
She is about to ask more questions, because if there was any topic she was well-versed in, it was motherhood – not that she was really any good at it – when there is a noticeable change. The way Lilliana seems to disappear from here entirely, her mind so clearly taken to a different place, and then the sharp call of the birds up above and the red mare’s eyes again focus back onto her. Though her expression is one of concern, it is mostly curiosity that itches beneath her skin. “You don’t have to apologize,” and she means it, and her tone remains soft, almost hesitant when she asks, “Is everything alright?”
ryatah