06-07-2015, 07:24 PM
Oh look, oh my star is fading
She should probably be afraid. But then again, she shouldn't have a reference for this kind of thing. She shouldn't have in her memory the kind of creatures that had swallowed her inside the stars. She shouldn't remember too-tall running-things filled with mouths. She shouldn't remember tentacles that oozed with acid and crunched between her teeth. She shouldn't have still-healing raw wounds on her belly and her knees from a chase for a mare that she should never have known.
She shouldn't, and yet, she does.
She is wary, but she is not afraid. It doesn't seem to want to hurt, not the way the things in that dying world had wanted to hurt. There had been no doubt, with them. But with this creature, there is doubt. She can feel it, see it, hear it in the gentle way that it trills. It could hurt, she doesn't doubt it (indeed, ability to hurt is written in every line of its body, quite literally from head to tail), and yet, it doesn't.
And so, against what some would call better judgment, in violation of every instinct she should have (and doesn't), she approaches it.
There is nothing especially beautiful or graceful about her, unless perhaps you consider innocence and trust to be beautiful. She is simply bay, simply a filly, small for her age. Her eyes are a swirl of rainbow color, amorphous, shifting and coming together and changing colors like an iridescent cloud. The wounds on her barrel and her knees are mostly healed over, mostly scabs now. It's only inside that she's so very strange – inside her head the voices of the dead keep her company, an army of the young dead, now turned into an army of friends. They walk with her where she goes, a constant chatter in the background, but even they are silenced by the thing she now approaches.
Maybe it's that she's seen death and is not afraid of it. Maybe it's that her heart is so pure that she insists on believing in love. Or maybe she's just got a few screws loose from all of that travel through space-time. Whatever the reason, she approaches it without hesitation, and she stops in front of it, at a reasonable conversation distance.
"Hello." she speaks, and her voice is as soft and light as a feather.
wrynn