into the endless g.r.e.y

[Nyryn]

OOC: Yay something remotely interesting ? please forgive terrible emo girls here, they need a big bunch of flowers each.

The darkness in her heart crept and spread like a slow working disease, like the rust on a polished metal keepsake, when forgotten and lost, tossed out in the cold, it rusts and grows mould. The blue mare could feel her bones numbing from the cold, her joints ceasing her in place. She'd make s fine statue, the winged mare stranded in the meadow, stuck in the in between. A form of purgatory. But there was movement in this purgatory, and Nyryn was reminded she was alive. Her senses got the better of her, ears alert and pointed at the incoming obstacle, eyes piecing together parts of the scene through the cloud of snow flurries. It was her nostrils that caught the memorable scent, it's the blood within her veins. The tarnished blood from their mother, she'd recognise that anywhere. Nyryn used her wings to detract the oncoming mare's speed, she arched them in such s way to protect herself, but she ended up covered in s fine dusting of the ice. Her pupils dilated, transfixed upon the black painted mare. It's the eyes, always the eyes, as orange as sunset, but as dead as the last rays of twilight. "Lye?" her mouth twists and contorts, the name becoming a rotten taste in her mouth. Her mismatched eyes looked at the black mare, her sister, younger, finer, still lost, still unkempt. "No, you're not imagining it, unfortunately. " her tone changes instantly. Cold, bitter like the strong winds that pulled at the gnarled trees behind them. When you can't hate yourself no longer, your hate seeps from within and burns others, blistering like lava. Nyryn is ready for another retort but someone else appears. Iron and silver on the dying light. A crown might as well have been placed crookedly stop her head as she spun a tale of fancy with every step she took. Her cool words crept to her ears and automatic reactions kicked in. The blue mare turned her head, her eyes away from her sibling and upon the new arrival. The winged mare's tone was clipped, sardonic. "Perhaps you'd want front row tickets. Angst sells pretty well, right? Everyone loves watching the misery of others." a long, deliberate pause. Ears tucking low against her poll. "Who are you? Some voyer who gets satisfaction from watching others feel pain? • charon x locket • wings, immortality •

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