09-08-2020, 12:16 PM
Shipka
She's being rude, but she doesn't notice. Her only friend has never cared what silly notions burst out of her mouth, and of course Shipka can only speak in ignorance of those who have wings. What pegasus does she know? Yet they seem so proud of their wings, preening them, and fanning them out beneath the warmth of the sun, featherdust glinting in the sun as it falls about them. Proud, taking up so much space for themselves, carving it out of the meadow. It never occurs to her that the work of cleaning and smoothing feathers, even magical ones, is a necessity and not an arrogance.
"Oh, I was very high up!" She grins openly as she remembers, a child, no more than a smudge of darkness climbing that softly-glowing staircase well into the sky. The night air had been as cold and bright as the shining stars, but there is a wry twist to the grin that spreads across her dark lips. She had, of course, been very small at the time. How far could she have gone?
"It was cold and quiet except for the wind, which felt like diamonds." Funny, how it had seemed silent and deafening at the same time, "but then I got distracted." The memory of that gut-wrenching fall, of that teetering moment between a missed step and a headlong rush to eternity, is still strong. It makes her belly feel like it's twisting in her gut.
"I'm not really sure how high it was. High enough that I landed on the Mountain and didn't get back down until the next day." Her grin returns, tamed slightly. Shipka knows that wishes don't come true as often as they do - perhaps more often. Had she not wished that night to always carry the night sky with her and been met only by silence? It had been granted on another day, but not quite as she had intended. The cool, curling wisps of what once was hair are evidence of that, dark, infinite, glittering with stars in their depths. Aloy flicks her tail, but when Shipka does the same, there is no weight to it, like clouds, like smoke, her tail billows and drifts slowly back to place.
"I guess we are both lucky that way, then. What will you do, now that you've come back?"
"Oh, I was very high up!" She grins openly as she remembers, a child, no more than a smudge of darkness climbing that softly-glowing staircase well into the sky. The night air had been as cold and bright as the shining stars, but there is a wry twist to the grin that spreads across her dark lips. She had, of course, been very small at the time. How far could she have gone?
"It was cold and quiet except for the wind, which felt like diamonds." Funny, how it had seemed silent and deafening at the same time, "but then I got distracted." The memory of that gut-wrenching fall, of that teetering moment between a missed step and a headlong rush to eternity, is still strong. It makes her belly feel like it's twisting in her gut.
"I'm not really sure how high it was. High enough that I landed on the Mountain and didn't get back down until the next day." Her grin returns, tamed slightly. Shipka knows that wishes don't come true as often as they do - perhaps more often. Had she not wished that night to always carry the night sky with her and been met only by silence? It had been granted on another day, but not quite as she had intended. The cool, curling wisps of what once was hair are evidence of that, dark, infinite, glittering with stars in their depths. Aloy flicks her tail, but when Shipka does the same, there is no weight to it, like clouds, like smoke, her tail billows and drifts slowly back to place.
"I guess we are both lucky that way, then. What will you do, now that you've come back?"
@[Aloy]