02-26-2022, 01:48 PM
Sickle didn’t remember seeing any angels when she was in Hyaline - but she hadn’t exactly had time to explore. There was a single very nice moment of looking at the lake reflecting all the stars and then things had slipped and then tumbled pretty dramatically downhill.
Still, it’s nice to know that there is something redeemable about that mountain kingdom - nice to think that Malik is living with an angel, and maybe this means all hope isn’t lost for that place. Fyr’s account may be brief but it is effective, encouraging her to relax just a little bit. Holding onto any scrap of good news is becoming one of the ways she makes it through each day without crumbling.
At the clarification of whether she’s adopted, Sickle shrugs and offers him a small smile. “Kind of. I don’t know the full story, just that my brother and I were left in Tephra to keep us safe from our dad but we were so little I believed Wishbone was my mom, right up until the day Mazikeen came to take me from the Pampas.” That had been how Aela had called her out from where she hid - beckoning her forward with the news that her mom had arrived and Sickle had been so happy to finally hear those words.
The memory of that trick, of that whole day, is still painful. Her colours are wavering on her skin again when Fyr asks another question and her voice is soft as she replies. “She scared me.” There are scars on her skin from Mazikeen, but Sickle doesn’t point this out and she doesn’t know why. Maybe the flames in Fyr’s eyes scare her too, maybe she’s hopeful that the next piece of information is true. “My brother said she’s different now… nicer. I just haven’t been brave enough to go see. When I was little, my dad took me to Hyaline and he was going to hurt me - but Mazikeen stopped him. And then when she came to the Pampas… she was more like him.”
Sickle shakes her head, distressed by how confusing it all is, and looks upwards to the darkening sky like that will hide the tears that have started forming. No matter how old she gets, she still feels like a little baby. Lost and unsure and so, so, stupid. “Everyone’s always taking me away, but no one actually keeps me.” Only Asterope did, in that haven of a pond in the forest. And not for the first time Sickle wonders if she'd be better off confining herself to that same patch of forest, far away from everything else.
Still, it’s nice to know that there is something redeemable about that mountain kingdom - nice to think that Malik is living with an angel, and maybe this means all hope isn’t lost for that place. Fyr’s account may be brief but it is effective, encouraging her to relax just a little bit. Holding onto any scrap of good news is becoming one of the ways she makes it through each day without crumbling.
At the clarification of whether she’s adopted, Sickle shrugs and offers him a small smile. “Kind of. I don’t know the full story, just that my brother and I were left in Tephra to keep us safe from our dad but we were so little I believed Wishbone was my mom, right up until the day Mazikeen came to take me from the Pampas.” That had been how Aela had called her out from where she hid - beckoning her forward with the news that her mom had arrived and Sickle had been so happy to finally hear those words.
The memory of that trick, of that whole day, is still painful. Her colours are wavering on her skin again when Fyr asks another question and her voice is soft as she replies. “She scared me.” There are scars on her skin from Mazikeen, but Sickle doesn’t point this out and she doesn’t know why. Maybe the flames in Fyr’s eyes scare her too, maybe she’s hopeful that the next piece of information is true. “My brother said she’s different now… nicer. I just haven’t been brave enough to go see. When I was little, my dad took me to Hyaline and he was going to hurt me - but Mazikeen stopped him. And then when she came to the Pampas… she was more like him.”
Sickle shakes her head, distressed by how confusing it all is, and looks upwards to the darkening sky like that will hide the tears that have started forming. No matter how old she gets, she still feels like a little baby. Lost and unsure and so, so, stupid. “Everyone’s always taking me away, but no one actually keeps me.” Only Asterope did, in that haven of a pond in the forest. And not for the first time Sickle wonders if she'd be better off confining herself to that same patch of forest, far away from everything else.
@Fyr