09-10-2016, 05:50 AM
you won’t see me fall apart
The loss of the Valley left a similar hole to be filled in Thorunn. At first she ached to find the others, to craft its exact replica and raise it from the dirt. The Valley 2.0. The Valley Reborn. The Valley: Next Generation.
But then she moves, and meets, and shakes, and realizes that change might do her some good. Her parents cast a shadow on her, and without their lands to hang her namesake on. She was oddly freed by it. At last she could be what her father intended her to be (without the shadow, right? The shadow is just harder to see now). She embraced this change and fell, only partially, into her own habits. She followed Eight to Tephra.
Other things occurred, though, that left her a much different creature.
She wanders the forest because she doesn't sleep as well anymore. Sleep seems like a distant responsibility, a thing you do because it's expected. It's a chore, not a necessity. She can function without it, she's found. It's not like the freshly healed (thank you, Mountain - or witch, whatever) scar destroying most of the right side of her face would let her sleep anyway. It pounded, it howled, it called out in its slow venomous ways. There must have been something in that horn, something poisonous. It made no sense.
In all her wanderings she's rarely found another soul out so late, crossing the plains and meadows, until now. Until the mare, looking equally displaced. Thorunn allows a low welcome nicker, but keeps her distance.
The last stranger she approached slashed her face.
But then she moves, and meets, and shakes, and realizes that change might do her some good. Her parents cast a shadow on her, and without their lands to hang her namesake on. She was oddly freed by it. At last she could be what her father intended her to be (without the shadow, right? The shadow is just harder to see now). She embraced this change and fell, only partially, into her own habits. She followed Eight to Tephra.
Other things occurred, though, that left her a much different creature.
She wanders the forest because she doesn't sleep as well anymore. Sleep seems like a distant responsibility, a thing you do because it's expected. It's a chore, not a necessity. She can function without it, she's found. It's not like the freshly healed (thank you, Mountain - or witch, whatever) scar destroying most of the right side of her face would let her sleep anyway. It pounded, it howled, it called out in its slow venomous ways. There must have been something in that horn, something poisonous. It made no sense.
In all her wanderings she's rarely found another soul out so late, crossing the plains and meadows, until now. Until the mare, looking equally displaced. Thorunn allows a low welcome nicker, but keeps her distance.
The last stranger she approached slashed her face.
THORUNN
COVET x LIBRETTE