cobalt skies like midnight lies
As has been shown over years of quiet watching, Cinzia is a peculiar animal. Not social, yet easily morphed into society; not antisocial, yet a simple observer in a troubling amount of situations. The wind has been her only companion for many moons, though she does not complain. The wind caresses her, whispers to her, and never leaves her waiting. Now and again, however, perhaps Cinzia does in fact crave the solidity and realism of true companionship. For the wind is fickle, and does not speak when spoken to.
His roguish grin stirs something akin to feelings with her, which she ignores. Even now, in the depths of conversation, she remains but an observer. Despite this, however, a similar grin slips across her tainted lips, a cat to his rogue. Admiring the flash of his golden eyes, Cinzia impulsively leaves the protection of the lone tree, drawing closer to the man who had halted some yards away. The wind cannot stop me; I am so much more.
“Both,” She counters easily, her voice languid. The warm morning sun glitters across her wings, and they open slightly so as to allow wind between them. Cool eyes flickering from the cocked leg to the flicking tail and all the places besides, Cinzia enjoys what there is to see, and what there is to not; as he finally gives his answer, it is as though he pulls the plug, releasing the mare’s baited breath.
“Indeed it must be,” She agrees, head veering away from the handsome stallion as though her words have were out of place. Home; a concept completely foreign to the relatively young mare. True, she has lived in Beqanna all her life, brought up by a mother, learning of a father she never will meet. And even so the concept of home evades her; the wind is perhaps the closest she has yet known. Wordlessly it speaks to her, and unlike her mother, it supports her when she stretches her wings and flies. But perhaps, it is again time to trust in another being. Without truly recognizing it, Cinzia yearns to know just how it felt for Magnus to return home, but contains her curiosity until he asks about her. They have only just met, and despite his good looks and heart-stopping grin, she must exercise caution. Allowing the return of a careful smile, her gaze falls back to the golden man.
She hesitates at his question, mind rewinding from summer to summer until at last an answer flocks to her. “Four years at least is my best guess,” She would laugh, but she doesn’t quite remember how to. Instead, melancholy creeps across her high-born features. “It’s not the easiest to remember when there’s no one to remember.” Swept from her self-taught ways, Cinzia tumbles on, though her speech quickens not. “You’re the first person I’ve really spoken with in… Well, a long time.” She smiles, the gesture rather sheepish. Had her fur been a lighter shade, perhaps he would have seen the crimson upon her high-boned cheeks. “At least, my version of a long time. I’d imagine your version is a little different.”
Cinzia
warm hellos and cold goodbyes