09-26-2026, 06:16 PM
who could ever leave me, darling,
but who could stay?
but who could stay?
She does not usually venture this far into the forest. In fact, she does not usually venture into the forest at all.
The towering trees obscure the sky, and she finds herself constantly looking upwards to assure herself that it is still there—small patches of it glinting through the tops of the trees, winking with flashes of silver stars. Every glimpse triggered a pang in her chest. She was trying so hard to find a place down here, no matter how the clouds might call to her. It was hard to deny though that things had been so much easier up there. Easier to imagine a life rather than live it, to live in a cathedral made of dreams rather than be on the ground and realize how easy it would be for it all to collapse around her.
But she comes to the forest anyway, fueled by curiosity for why someone might be drawn to a place so dark.
To her, it felt stifling, as if the dark were a living, breathing entity that was standing far too close. Even the soft glow that radiated from her body did not seem to be enough to drive it back, and she looks upwards with a soft sigh, seeking out the moon she knew had to be there. Brushing the clouds aside like one might a cobweb, she finds the silvery light and draws on it, sending it like a beacon to the forest floor and illuminating the space around her.
She continues into the forest with her moonlight and her daydreams, her mind drifting to the sky and being asleep in the stars, above the threat of the impending rain she could now smell amongst the other scents of the forest.
She realizes a breath too late that she is not alone, when the moonlight reflects off the gold-flecked stallion that had been swathed in shadow. A gasp catches in her throat, her tentative hold on the moonlight immediately blinking out. They would have been in utter darkness if not for her own glow; the gentle light illuminating the pale galaxy color of her skin and the golden stardust that spills from her wings, and the apprehension in her dark eyes reflecting beneath the hazy light of her halo. “I’m sorry,” she breathes, and she cannot explain why she is so quick to be afraid of his reaction, why the fear feels like ice running down her skin.
It takes a moment for her to see him, truly, beyond her initial startled reaction. The way a constellation glowed on his chest, the stardust spilled down his face, and the flicker of something like lightning in his eyes. She realizes then, too, that the smell of rain is coming from him, and she takes a cautiously curious step towards him. She will never not be drawn towards the things that remind her of the sky and the heavens, and now she is staring at him with those wide, doe-like eyes that still sometimes cannot believe creatures like him are real.
“Did you want to be alone?” She asks him, guardedly hopeful that his answer will be no, and her voice still nearly a hush as if he might be a thing she made up and being too loud would send him back to wherever her dreams went when she was awake.
The towering trees obscure the sky, and she finds herself constantly looking upwards to assure herself that it is still there—small patches of it glinting through the tops of the trees, winking with flashes of silver stars. Every glimpse triggered a pang in her chest. She was trying so hard to find a place down here, no matter how the clouds might call to her. It was hard to deny though that things had been so much easier up there. Easier to imagine a life rather than live it, to live in a cathedral made of dreams rather than be on the ground and realize how easy it would be for it all to collapse around her.
But she comes to the forest anyway, fueled by curiosity for why someone might be drawn to a place so dark.
To her, it felt stifling, as if the dark were a living, breathing entity that was standing far too close. Even the soft glow that radiated from her body did not seem to be enough to drive it back, and she looks upwards with a soft sigh, seeking out the moon she knew had to be there. Brushing the clouds aside like one might a cobweb, she finds the silvery light and draws on it, sending it like a beacon to the forest floor and illuminating the space around her.
She continues into the forest with her moonlight and her daydreams, her mind drifting to the sky and being asleep in the stars, above the threat of the impending rain she could now smell amongst the other scents of the forest.
She realizes a breath too late that she is not alone, when the moonlight reflects off the gold-flecked stallion that had been swathed in shadow. A gasp catches in her throat, her tentative hold on the moonlight immediately blinking out. They would have been in utter darkness if not for her own glow; the gentle light illuminating the pale galaxy color of her skin and the golden stardust that spills from her wings, and the apprehension in her dark eyes reflecting beneath the hazy light of her halo. “I’m sorry,” she breathes, and she cannot explain why she is so quick to be afraid of his reaction, why the fear feels like ice running down her skin.
It takes a moment for her to see him, truly, beyond her initial startled reaction. The way a constellation glowed on his chest, the stardust spilled down his face, and the flicker of something like lightning in his eyes. She realizes then, too, that the smell of rain is coming from him, and she takes a cautiously curious step towards him. She will never not be drawn towards the things that remind her of the sky and the heavens, and now she is staring at him with those wide, doe-like eyes that still sometimes cannot believe creatures like him are real.
“Did you want to be alone?” She asks him, guardedly hopeful that his answer will be no, and her voice still nearly a hush as if he might be a thing she made up and being too loud would send him back to wherever her dreams went when she was awake.
Empyreal
@obsidio