02-09-2022, 12:00 PM
What was she save for pitiful? The streamline of curses and insults that loop on repeat in the back of Frey’s mind remind her of what she has been and always will be: alone, angry, and cornered by fate.
Finding that the night suits her the most, Frey often travels beneath the watery light of the moon. (That is, when she does travel. She may feel tragic but she does not possess tragedy’s signature restlessness.) While she is not so different from the wondrous and strange creatures that roam Beqanna, Frey harbors an alienation so deep inside of her that she feels safe amongst the night’s shadows. It has been years since she found a companion. So many years, in fact, that she was merely a babe then.
The darkness saves her from her whirling thoughts, too. There’s a certain gritty appreciation she has for her protection in the night. No passing reflection in puddles or pools to startle her, no friendly nomad accosting her, no bright blue sky the exact color of her missing mother.
Don’t you miss the idea of her? she thinks angrily, shaking her head.
The lime of her eyes flashes with righteous heat as she spots the ghost. Frey comes to a complete halt, hardly breathing. There are many odd things to observe in her homeland, but never has she seen one quite like this. Just as she stops, the ghost’s head snaps around and locks her in place with his gaze. Frey hardly breathes as she notices how different yet alike they are.
Ever the fighter, Frey draws her head high.
“I’ve never seen anyone like you,” she says by way of greeting, tilting her head slightly to the right.
@Mesarez
Finding that the night suits her the most, Frey often travels beneath the watery light of the moon. (That is, when she does travel. She may feel tragic but she does not possess tragedy’s signature restlessness.) While she is not so different from the wondrous and strange creatures that roam Beqanna, Frey harbors an alienation so deep inside of her that she feels safe amongst the night’s shadows. It has been years since she found a companion. So many years, in fact, that she was merely a babe then.
The darkness saves her from her whirling thoughts, too. There’s a certain gritty appreciation she has for her protection in the night. No passing reflection in puddles or pools to startle her, no friendly nomad accosting her, no bright blue sky the exact color of her missing mother.
Don’t you miss the idea of her? she thinks angrily, shaking her head.
The lime of her eyes flashes with righteous heat as she spots the ghost. Frey comes to a complete halt, hardly breathing. There are many odd things to observe in her homeland, but never has she seen one quite like this. Just as she stops, the ghost’s head snaps around and locks her in place with his gaze. Frey hardly breathes as she notices how different yet alike they are.
Ever the fighter, Frey draws her head high.
“I’ve never seen anyone like you,” she says by way of greeting, tilting her head slightly to the right.
@Mesarez