11-25-2016, 02:50 AM
He stretches his wings, pumping them vigorously and sending a flurry of petals and greenstuff from the forest floor raining down on her head. It rankles … and likely more than he’d intended. His moment of showing off is reminding her of her own current lack of wings (wretched fairies). “Oh thanks,” she mutters dryly. “I suppose I’ll just have to start a new fashion now.” He can probably sense her anger (damnable telepathy), but she leaves it at that. He’d intended on annoying her, not reminding her of her current inadequacies. His body is rippling again (no doubt ‘display’ is in the offing), and she’s about to sass him when his wings disappear and his skin actually cracks. She doesn’t hide her disgust, her mouth twisting as her eyes follow the gush of blood that suddenly stains the forest floor. “Gross.” His body knits together, suddenly normal again, but she still has a bad taste in her mouth. “Now what was that supposed to accomplish?” Seriously. Ew. “There are many things I could become. And many things I know.” She snorts audibly and her eyes roll. “Of that I have no doubt.” He speaks again and her mouth twists in a decidedly different expression. Well he’s hit the nail on the uncomfortable head this time, hasn’t he? She pauses for a moment, mind drawn to places she would rather it not go. She hasn’t seen Ram since she abandoned them in the den, hasn’t seen Makaria or Kione since their fight in the Jungle, hasn’t seen Pevensie since their last visit in the Deserts, hasn’t seen … any, of her children in years. “I have no one.” As for love? She’s loved her children, as any good mother will. She’s loved her sister and her adoptive family. But romantic love? Never. She’s always kept her heart hidden away, always tried to protect herself (she’s already experienced enough pain). She’s never been able to open up enough, never been able to find someone to crack her armour. “No one at all.” |