01-10-2021, 04:50 PM
chasmata
She feels him before she sees him.
Or, rather, she feels his influence.
The calm seeps into her muscles, which had trembled begun to tremble with caged adrenaline, her want to move with no place to go. The calm slows the ragged beat of her heart and the quick, frenzied pattern of her breath. Whatever fear she had felt moments earlier is gone by the time he reaches her.
He does not glow as she glows, but she throws enough light that she can make out the shape of him in the darkness. He is light and does not appear to be a threat, which she is grateful for. It occurs to her that she should try to make it home to the Cove but, even under the influence of his calm, she doesn’t think it would be wise to try to make the journey on her own.
She draws in a long, steady breath and casts a glance into the shadows that seem to lean in toward them. She has never seen anything like it either, she thinks but does not immediately say. She moves toward him almost imperceptibly, still acutely aware of the sense of looming danger in all that crushing darkness. She finds herself grateful that he has come along and seems to have brought this sense of calm with him.
She tries for a smile as she pulls her focus back to his face but it’s flimsy, not all that convincing. “It’s confusing,” she finally agrees and then glances quickly up toward the sky, the long stretch of absolute blackness, “it doesn’t seem to be day but it’s not night either.” She could explain to him how she has come to this conclusion, but that would require explaining the way her vision changes based on the time of day and how she seems to be stuck permanently midway between clear-eyed and absolutely blind.
“I’m Chasmata,” she tells him, “I’m glad you came along, I was starting to talk myself into being afraid.”
Or, rather, she feels his influence.
The calm seeps into her muscles, which had trembled begun to tremble with caged adrenaline, her want to move with no place to go. The calm slows the ragged beat of her heart and the quick, frenzied pattern of her breath. Whatever fear she had felt moments earlier is gone by the time he reaches her.
He does not glow as she glows, but she throws enough light that she can make out the shape of him in the darkness. He is light and does not appear to be a threat, which she is grateful for. It occurs to her that she should try to make it home to the Cove but, even under the influence of his calm, she doesn’t think it would be wise to try to make the journey on her own.
She draws in a long, steady breath and casts a glance into the shadows that seem to lean in toward them. She has never seen anything like it either, she thinks but does not immediately say. She moves toward him almost imperceptibly, still acutely aware of the sense of looming danger in all that crushing darkness. She finds herself grateful that he has come along and seems to have brought this sense of calm with him.
She tries for a smile as she pulls her focus back to his face but it’s flimsy, not all that convincing. “It’s confusing,” she finally agrees and then glances quickly up toward the sky, the long stretch of absolute blackness, “it doesn’t seem to be day but it’s not night either.” She could explain to him how she has come to this conclusion, but that would require explaining the way her vision changes based on the time of day and how she seems to be stuck permanently midway between clear-eyed and absolutely blind.
“I’m Chasmata,” she tells him, “I’m glad you came along, I was starting to talk myself into being afraid.”
the moonlight, baby, shows you what’s real
but there ain’t language for the things i feel
but there ain’t language for the things i feel
@[Tiercel]