01-04-2019, 11:56 PM
living for the past
because the future's gone. praying in the dark that you won't go home. i should've said it better, i should've set fire to a letter. but i could run to your apartment, hope i get it started better than before; and i could write it in a poem, pretend i used to know you better than before.
Wishbone hasn’t quite pieced together the puzzle just yet. She doesn’t understand that the seemingly erratic behavior of Beqanna’s shifting lands indicates the desire for the earth to protect itself. She doesn’t understand that many of the coughing, bloody, and sweaty travelers she passed on her way to Nerine all carry the same infection in their vessels. For this moment, they are random coincidences; there is no pattern or rhyme or reason to the importance of her life.
Yet those very things — the plague, the shifting of Beqanna’s landscape — are potentially stealing Breckin from reuniting with her friend. This child, with her timid bravery, knows more about Beqanna’s haunts and concerns than Wishbone herself. The mahogany mare knows that the life of a queen is difficult and exhausting… It had been the very thing that drove her from the familiar and out into the world of the unknown. She doesn’t fault Breckin for being absent from this meeting; certainly, there are other Nerinians (like this filly) who can handle Wishbone just as well as the Khaleesi.
“Do you like swimming the cold waters, Eurwen?” Wishbone grew up in the warmer waters of the eastern ocean, chasing the spray of dolphins breaths and winding among the sulfur. The duty of a princess called for her to transfer to Nerine as a yearling, and Wishbone spent her adolescent years in the bitter waters of the northern ocean. She’s well-used to the temperature now and even after her years of exploration, the waves call to her. “I’m sure we can find her if we start walking.”
A smile tugs at Wishbone’s lips at the thought of twining through Nerine with Breckin’s own daughter beside her. It certainly isn’t something she ever expected to be doing, but the mahogany mare finds that she’s perfectly content with the situation. “May I cross the border, Eurwen?” She hasn’t stepped across just yet, despite knowing every curve and bend of Nerine’s landscape.
Yet those very things — the plague, the shifting of Beqanna’s landscape — are potentially stealing Breckin from reuniting with her friend. This child, with her timid bravery, knows more about Beqanna’s haunts and concerns than Wishbone herself. The mahogany mare knows that the life of a queen is difficult and exhausting… It had been the very thing that drove her from the familiar and out into the world of the unknown. She doesn’t fault Breckin for being absent from this meeting; certainly, there are other Nerinians (like this filly) who can handle Wishbone just as well as the Khaleesi.
“Do you like swimming the cold waters, Eurwen?” Wishbone grew up in the warmer waters of the eastern ocean, chasing the spray of dolphins breaths and winding among the sulfur. The duty of a princess called for her to transfer to Nerine as a yearling, and Wishbone spent her adolescent years in the bitter waters of the northern ocean. She’s well-used to the temperature now and even after her years of exploration, the waves call to her. “I’m sure we can find her if we start walking.”
A smile tugs at Wishbone’s lips at the thought of twining through Nerine with Breckin’s own daughter beside her. It certainly isn’t something she ever expected to be doing, but the mahogany mare finds that she’s perfectly content with the situation. “May I cross the border, Eurwen?” She hasn’t stepped across just yet, despite knowing every curve and bend of Nerine’s landscape.
@[Eurwen]