01-28-2021, 01:23 AM
You think I'll be the Dark Sky so you can be the Star?
I'll Swallow you Whole.
I'll Swallow you Whole.
He had promised to find the stars, and she had agreed to go with him.
Even though she had her doubts she refused to let him see that, although she is unsure at how well she is at hiding things. She hardly knows how to handle emotions at all, much less how to conceal them. She did not have doubt in him. No, he was one of the few—perhaps the only—that she had any kind of faith in.
But she knows the stars so well, and she knows if they are hiding no one is going to find them. Not even her.
She recognizes though that this is something Tiercel needs to do. That he needed to feel like he was at least doing something to try and amend the situation, rather than sit idly by. She did not know how to voice to him that she would not have faulted him for not trying, just as she did not know how to convey that he touched some distant, hollow part of her at the gesture.
It was why she wanted to go with him, because she had learned to recognize the way he sometimes grew quiet and pensive, and she wondered if that was when he began to worry he was going to fail. It was then that she would reach over to just lightly brush her nose to his shoulder, silent but understanding. She had decided too that perhaps this was better than simply wasting away—her light had nearly all but faded, and the black that had begun to seep into her skin took up enough of her body that it was no longer something that could be ignored. It enveloped her ears and crawled down the sharp angles of her face, it streaked into the white of her mane and washed across her back.
She didn't know what it meant—she didn't want to think about what it could mean.
Her pregnancy was another difficulty she had not counted on. In her naivety, she had not realized how much harder traveling would be as their child began to outgrow her confinements, but Islas, ever the stoic one, did not complain. She bore the restless shifting and kicks in silence, but secretly she was grateful when they stopped near a body of water that Tiercel was intent on searching. The look she had given him was faintly skeptical, but she did not say anything. She knew he would not rest unless he had searched everywhere.
Lingering on the water's edge she watches the faint ripples he had left behind, though as the minutes tick on, she finds herself growing worried. “Tiercel?” She calls his name quietly to the almost black surface of the water, though she knows it was useless. She could do nothing but wait.
Even though she had her doubts she refused to let him see that, although she is unsure at how well she is at hiding things. She hardly knows how to handle emotions at all, much less how to conceal them. She did not have doubt in him. No, he was one of the few—perhaps the only—that she had any kind of faith in.
But she knows the stars so well, and she knows if they are hiding no one is going to find them. Not even her.
She recognizes though that this is something Tiercel needs to do. That he needed to feel like he was at least doing something to try and amend the situation, rather than sit idly by. She did not know how to voice to him that she would not have faulted him for not trying, just as she did not know how to convey that he touched some distant, hollow part of her at the gesture.
It was why she wanted to go with him, because she had learned to recognize the way he sometimes grew quiet and pensive, and she wondered if that was when he began to worry he was going to fail. It was then that she would reach over to just lightly brush her nose to his shoulder, silent but understanding. She had decided too that perhaps this was better than simply wasting away—her light had nearly all but faded, and the black that had begun to seep into her skin took up enough of her body that it was no longer something that could be ignored. It enveloped her ears and crawled down the sharp angles of her face, it streaked into the white of her mane and washed across her back.
She didn't know what it meant—she didn't want to think about what it could mean.
Her pregnancy was another difficulty she had not counted on. In her naivety, she had not realized how much harder traveling would be as their child began to outgrow her confinements, but Islas, ever the stoic one, did not complain. She bore the restless shifting and kicks in silence, but secretly she was grateful when they stopped near a body of water that Tiercel was intent on searching. The look she had given him was faintly skeptical, but she did not say anything. She knew he would not rest unless he had searched everywhere.
Lingering on the water's edge she watches the faint ripples he had left behind, though as the minutes tick on, she finds herself growing worried. “Tiercel?” She calls his name quietly to the almost black surface of the water, though she knows it was useless. She could do nothing but wait.
Islas
@[Tiercel]