Underneath the layers of snow which cloak Hyaline to near invisibility, a strong, thrumming heartbeat can almost be heard; at least, I hear it in my dreams. Despite the fact that we are but barely two queens, two council members and some children, Hyaline lives passionately (if quietly) beneath the layer of ghostly whiteness. And though I know that She exists for more than just my family and I, representing something far greater than our short blink of an existence, I feel that she grows alongside us all the same. In line with the scar which now poisons my once unchallenged beauty, Hyaline too has come to bear something more worthwhile than meekness and grace.
There's a strength to Her voice, a firmness where something once wavered: in the depths of Her heart, Hyaline has found a fire by which to live, despite how it scalds her innards.
It's been too long since last my brother made his moonly visit, called forward by the night - or at least, he usually is. It's broad daylight when the scent of his magic sweeps along the drafts of the winter's wind, ruining my focus as I pause along the route of my southern border patrol. My antlers reach skyward as I raise my nose to the scent, attempting to decipher from whence it came; but my darling brother leaves little to be questioned, in what ways he can manage. Nutmeg eyes sparking like wildfires, a piercing whinny soars with the breeze, calling my brother to me with eager desperation.
The wolf - strange, utterly - beckons to me wordlessly, a wraith where one might imagine only angels come. It's bone-yellow gaze insights something akin to a fight or flight response in me, sending chemicals racing through my veins and slickening my perception of this reality. But there is no predator here, and the only thing to which I must run is Khaedrik. Lead me, I think to the arcane magic, stepping towards its otherworldly movement slows and spins in a new direction. Follow, it whispers back; and I do.
He seems pensive, anxious, when I find him. The smile that parts my lips is not unlike the scar which now cleaves my face in two, a new development on what was once otherwise stagnant. But the expression on his face in turn gives pause to my joy. His perceptive eyes cut the wolf at my side, but we have the same thought at the same moment: No. His magic would never harm me. Instead, I'm left feeling dry-mouthed and concerned, awaiting his reaction to my newfound mutilation; panic loosens my tongue, and we speak at once.
"I'm sorry I'm not beautiful any more."
A split moment afterward, my brain pieces together what he'd said beneath my own words; an uncomfortable laugh shakes my frame, eyes dropping as I realize that both of us are being quite stupid - though I also know that my brother is being dead serious. Stepping forward, I place my mouth just on his, our whiskers mixing. Once, I'd soothed his nightmares and held him curled against my chest, a babe; but before me now is an undeniably grown man, existing utterly in his own right when once I might have had a say.
"No one, little brother," I murmur against his lips, looking up at him from below my lashes. Above, my antlers arc over his head, hiding us both beneath their branched might. "It's nothing... But what is something is the politics." My eyes drop, brows furrowing, sigh blossoming from the depths of my lungs. "And you are perhaps the only one who can help me escape them."
@[Khaedrik] <3
![[Image: kag]](https://78.media.tumblr.com/2e8039018ce4dff6112c167ec23e886a/tumblr_p72zjit7wC1s5a0qvo1_100.png)
dreamweaver