Mnemosine is plagued by the nightmares, haunted by his eyes ever following, his cruel touch ever scarring, manipulating her skin like his own clay to form a masterpiece. Haunted by these dreams she cannot help but feel the twang of nerves beneath her skin, taut and intertwining with one another like pieces of a puzzle. Her mind plays tricks upon her most of the time, when she gazes at her sister she sees far more than appears. Each scar marks a pattern, a map of the roads they had seem to travel, endlessly, the pair. Perhaps her fear had been misplaced for the few passing moments of silence, that the trio endure, but it is the fear that has held the two together, unable to all apart because of her, being the glue. And her sister, being one of the many broken pieces of their togetherness.
Lethea listens with tulip ears, they flutter gently in the cold, harsh breeze. Her skin peppers with gooseflesh, ebony tendrils whipping around her face as she feels the cold gnaw at her bones and then even deeper. She turns her gaze from her sister and takes a subtle step forward. Her eyes drawing up to meet Shahrizai with a soft, cocoa gaze. 'Oh, the cold is dreadful.' 'We've been travelling for quite some time, and thought we would have shelter from the winter soon enough. I suppose I thought wrong. Mnemosine's voice is lilting against the wind as she turns and nudges her sister, a wayward gesture that entices her sibling back a step or two. But her gaze never leaves the blue tinged steed, her eyes finding his lack of tail, quite haunting, slivers of memory she seems to capture with errant hands, but they slip from her fingers like feathers upon the harsh winter breeze. 'We both lost something too.' 'Lethea.. her sister warns with a cutting tone, but then is smooths to a soft velvet when she turns back to the steed, he is perhaps the light that has pierced through their darkness, if only for a few passing moments, giving them time to escape the shadow. 'The Deserts?' 'They sound so warm, so nice...' 'If you would allow us to accompany you there, perhaps our conversation will follow the sun and not be as... cold.' 'Oh, we are dreadfully frozen.' her smile is infectious as she gazes back to the steed, her eyes like glass, a mirror even, reflecting her lost, scarpering mind.
Lethea & Mnemosine
we are just misguided ghosts, travelling endlessly