03-19-2024, 03:21 PM
He stands before her, now the beginnings of a silhouette. Fitting she thinks, as the sky allows dusks colors to paint it's artistry among the clouds. The twilight provides a sense of security, a feeling she desperately wants to swallow, the whites and pinks of her pelt matching the suns way of saying goodbye over the horizon. Her mother must have known her daughters title would suit her so, Plenilune, of the moon. Was this spirit sent for her to awake from this dream? Though she wishes he would quit teasing her, only fortifying his mockery of her sanity with an answer to her question. A simple, "no." doesn't satisfy her, only sending her spiraling. She's convinced it's what he wants her to believe, his next question though, contradicts it."Are you from the moon?" Now she really feels like she's dreaming. Pleni had always admired the planet's sister, always felt a connection, but never actually pondered the fact of a direct descendent, nor did she think it possible. Sure, she was named after her, but was she crafted from earths satellite? No, unfortunately but she wants to get lost in the thought of it. "No," She mimics his response, only in a regretful sense. "although, it feels as though I fell from there." Pleni's voice is soft, cautious of the words she chooses to reveal to the spirit. In a way, she feels calmed by his presence now, knowing that he isn't real, that he can't harm her. She's tried hard to convince herself that, regardless of how insane it seemed. This was more blissful, a dream to not awake from opposed to the stallion in actuality, looming over her while she suffered. The internal battle continues despite her persuasive endeavors, and this question she asks teeters over the edge.
"Are you real? What may I call you?" She begins to notice the fact that if he is truly sentient, breathing, sound, what she must look like to him. "I will keep you safe, if that is what she wills." Something an astral guardian would say, she wonders, not a living breathing stranger whom she does not know. If this is true, the tingling fear that once embodied her slithers it's way back up her gut, one of glorious adrenaline sending sparks up her legs and provoking a strength she couldn't have conjured otherwise. The intensity brings her at last to her feet, though not as coordinated as she would have liked, pale legs vibrating, wings akin to the night flyer of a barn owl, splayed at her sides for balance. Sapphire jewels scan the expanse of his feathered legs, eventually finding purchase at his gaze, thoughtfully addressing her. Again, she wants to reach out a wing, touch his flesh to affirm her madness. To take away the burden of lunacy, but reluctantly she refrains. "Prove it. That you're real." She isn't sure quite what she asking for, terrified rather.
PLENILUNE
there's splendor in your chaos
@
Ruhr