i swore that i'd never let you back in
In the very distance, or so what seems to give the impression, the birds are singing their sweet morning melody. The presence of dawn is arising. Sunlight is just beginning to light up the horizon. It is a slow pace, making its way above the treeline of the forest that borders one side of the meadow, but so far it looks to be a warm and promising day.
She yawns absentmindedly, watching the rise of the sun with hazelnut eyes. It feels like she has been asleep for a thousand years, and in truth, it likely has been that. She does not recall the last time she has been in Beqanna, but it had been enough for her to feel the memories of her birthplace slipping away. However, that was one of the defects of being an immortal soul. She is not an old soul though, at least compared to those that have been gifted (or cursed, it depended on who you spoke to) with immortality.
But something had changed her.
When she came back to Beqanna, the world had pulled at her body—it felt like she was being torn apart, like her limbs were not hers to move anymore. Her life slowly began to be pulled away from her, uncoiling the energy from her body and all things that had made her still feel so young. And along with that went with her beautifully, sharpen horn. All she had left was a pair of wings (thankfully, she had thought once her transition had occurred).
While the transition had been unexpected, and rather painful, she is left uncertain of what to think of it. Beqanna had indeed change, but to what extent she has no idea. It is only here, in the meadow, this morning that she tries to figure it out, awaiting patiently for someone (anyone) to inform her of what has happened here. It is with an open mind, and deep wishing, that she hopes to find it has not changed much.
Then again, anything was possible in Beqanna.
She yawns absentmindedly, watching the rise of the sun with hazelnut eyes. It feels like she has been asleep for a thousand years, and in truth, it likely has been that. She does not recall the last time she has been in Beqanna, but it had been enough for her to feel the memories of her birthplace slipping away. However, that was one of the defects of being an immortal soul. She is not an old soul though, at least compared to those that have been gifted (or cursed, it depended on who you spoke to) with immortality.
But something had changed her.
When she came back to Beqanna, the world had pulled at her body—it felt like she was being torn apart, like her limbs were not hers to move anymore. Her life slowly began to be pulled away from her, uncoiling the energy from her body and all things that had made her still feel so young. And along with that went with her beautifully, sharpen horn. All she had left was a pair of wings (thankfully, she had thought once her transition had occurred).
While the transition had been unexpected, and rather painful, she is left uncertain of what to think of it. Beqanna had indeed change, but to what extent she has no idea. It is only here, in the meadow, this morning that she tries to figure it out, awaiting patiently for someone (anyone) to inform her of what has happened here. It is with an open mind, and deep wishing, that she hopes to find it has not changed much.
Then again, anything was possible in Beqanna.
@[Leah]