they all need something to hold on to, they all mean well
pay your respects to society giving me hell They come to the meadow, their figures drenched in the golden light of a dying sun. Together they have seen many suns die, and together they have watched them rise again. In truth, they should not look as they do – their bodies youthful and strong, untouched by the years they have lived. Long ago, they had been born to a maiden and a monster. And that is how they discovered that even scars fade after a time. But memories? Those, they keep – locked away behind her almond eyes; quietly treasured within his dark gaze.
She walks just ahead of him, hips swaying in the dusky glow. There is silence between them as they move through the grass. Nao feels bored, restless. Their return to Beqanna was nothing more than an annoyance to the chestnut mare. To Ikaro, it was something more. The sooty stallion had a gentleness to him that had long since disappeared in Nao – and though she would not say as much aloud, he knew that his sister believed it to be his greatest shortcoming.
After all they’d survived together, he could not blame her.
With no more than a glance, they nearly pass the old buckskin by – until Nao sees his skin change. It is mere curiosity that stays her at first, rare as it was to witness a gift such as his. The stallion himself is less than remarkable (old bones, old smile) so she observes the images that play upon his skin instead. There was something strangely familiar about the illustrations. Ikaro, too, sees the images – and then, abruptly, he halts.
Noticing her brother’s reaction, Nao looks again. This time, she sees past the leopard markings. Past her own denial. Her ears dive backward, disappearing in the flaxen of her mane for a moment before her expression changes. The slender chestnut comes alongside the aging illusionist, almond eyes flashing. “Was she a lover of yours, then?” Behind her, Ikaro flinches. Nao only smiles, bright and easy – casual, even – though her tail snaps sharply about the curve of her hips.
nao § ikaro
you could never feel my story, it's all you know
i will not fold, she's in control of everyone and everything |
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