my dawn will last forever || any

[Celest]

The Oracle had seen him coming days before the thought to leave his cave enters his simple, carnal mind. She had plenty of time to abandon her hovel beside the blackened lake before he could find her, but she carries on as if this day would be no different than any other. With a feeling of mild expectation, she walks to the water's edge to drink. Pressing her lips to the cloudy water, just this side of poison, she hears him. With a snort and a step backward, Celest retreats to the treeline where she lingers, just out of view, until he appears just as she knew he would.

It seemed to be all she did these days, may as well linger where something interesting could happen. 

Her violet mane hangs in long, rough fingers across her shoulders, her forelock falls well below the line of her gemstone eyes. The product of a starry-eyed girl's tryst with a god, and well forgotten by any family she could lay claim to. She watches him with dull interest, her weight pressed back into one hip. She had already seen the day of her death after all, and it wasn't today. 

"That's a pretty thing," she says to the monster, as if she hadn't seen him remove it from the skull of a fallen queen. "Wonder who you had to kill to get that,"  she muses. No hint of a smile threatens to disrupt the cool set of her features, but there is no accusation in her voice either.

Celest hadn't been there, of course, she hadn't been anywhere near there on the day of Krone's murder. But that didn't mean she hadn't seen it in every gory, skin-splitting detail.  When the vision came to her, on the day on Krone's kidnapping, she hadn't had the option to look away. 

Not that it had bothered her too much. She had lived in these woods too long to truly feel others pain. She wouldn't be here if that sort of thing bothered her anymore - it had been years, and five or six monarchs ago when she had been a captive. 

Yet, she lingers.

I'm not a girl,
I'm a storm with skin

rusty celest words for you!