04-05-2016, 12:55 PM
Lexa seems to think she’s not hurting, but she is.
As tempestuous as their relationship had been at times, Larken had always loved their mother. And her loss is eating away at Larken just as surely as it’s eating away at Lexa. Perhaps even more …
See, Larken had figured it out. During one of their calmer moments, Lyris had told her about the regeneration that a faerie had given her a while back. If she’d had it while burning up (Lexa had explained to her what had happened), she’d possibly have been able to heal, possibly been able to survive. But Larken is the one that had come back from the dead.
She doesn’t know exactly how, but Lyris had given her the regeneration at the expense of her own life.
All because of Larken’s own stupidity.
It certainly explains everything. She’d been a grullo appaloosa before dying, now she’s pitch black, tipped with silver. And her body is different, larger, more muscular. More like her ‘father’s’ body type than the odd, short scrappy mix she’d been before. Lyris must have given her the regeneration.
Her ‘father’ must have been involved somehow. Must have been, to account for the other … differences. Upon waking up from her sister’s carbon cocoon she’d discovered that more than just her body had changed. The winds had begun responding to her the moment she looked to the sky, and storm clouds had billowed overhead.
But she doesn’t have control yet. She’s not used to the ability, it’s too new to her, too young. So instead of dwelling on what she should have done, she’s thrown herself into practice, trying to hone her skills and at least make herself less dangerous. It’s all she can do now, and if she were to stop and wait, to pause for her grief, she knows she would be overwhelmed.
She’s practicing now, standing in one of the Jungle’s smaller clearings. She knows her mother had been able to use the winds to make her fly, so she’s trying to do that now, though without much success. She hasn’t even been able to make her feet leave the soil, and has actually managed to push herself over once or twice. But she keeps practicing, keeps on going. She can’t stop now.
As tempestuous as their relationship had been at times, Larken had always loved their mother. And her loss is eating away at Larken just as surely as it’s eating away at Lexa. Perhaps even more …
See, Larken had figured it out. During one of their calmer moments, Lyris had told her about the regeneration that a faerie had given her a while back. If she’d had it while burning up (Lexa had explained to her what had happened), she’d possibly have been able to heal, possibly been able to survive. But Larken is the one that had come back from the dead.
She doesn’t know exactly how, but Lyris had given her the regeneration at the expense of her own life.
All because of Larken’s own stupidity.
It certainly explains everything. She’d been a grullo appaloosa before dying, now she’s pitch black, tipped with silver. And her body is different, larger, more muscular. More like her ‘father’s’ body type than the odd, short scrappy mix she’d been before. Lyris must have given her the regeneration.
Her ‘father’ must have been involved somehow. Must have been, to account for the other … differences. Upon waking up from her sister’s carbon cocoon she’d discovered that more than just her body had changed. The winds had begun responding to her the moment she looked to the sky, and storm clouds had billowed overhead.
But she doesn’t have control yet. She’s not used to the ability, it’s too new to her, too young. So instead of dwelling on what she should have done, she’s thrown herself into practice, trying to hone her skills and at least make herself less dangerous. It’s all she can do now, and if she were to stop and wait, to pause for her grief, she knows she would be overwhelmed.
She’s practicing now, standing in one of the Jungle’s smaller clearings. She knows her mother had been able to use the winds to make her fly, so she’s trying to do that now, though without much success. She hasn’t even been able to make her feet leave the soil, and has actually managed to push herself over once or twice. But she keeps practicing, keeps on going. She can’t stop now.