08-03-2019, 11:43 AM
 I can remember a time when I was so afraid when even my shadow wouldn't follow me When Elaina had been born, there had been nothing but sunshine and smiles. Born underneath a hot afternoon sun, her mother and father had said that she completed them, that this was trinity they needed, the final piece of the puzzle. Her mother was like the early morning light, that barely skims through the trees, docile and pretty. While her father was the ever imposing night, black and encompassing. Elaina was the sun, bright, bold, beautiful, so much like the afternoon star she was born under. Never perhaps was there a more welcomed child into this world than Elaina. But, the peace hardly lasted. Frostbane, the Snow Prince, had insured this. So Elaina had no choice but to grow strong in a land she soon learned was filled with monsters, a monster that killed her father. She had to grow hard, stubborn, brave. A little orphan girl in this big world, who had to make such a long journey, all on her own. There was still a certain innocence to Elaina, there was denying it, softened by love, by the protection of her family, that sparkle in her eyes that says she thinks everything will turn out alright. That, maybe, this world is not all bad, as much as it tries to be. Elaina would have done well to learn by little red riding hood’s mistakes. He is ragged: dirty skin, angry edges, violent shine to his eyes that she had seen in only one other being in her life, but never this close, her family and friends had always kept him from getting that close, but they aren't here anymore to shield her away, the sunflower girl had left them all behind. Elaina has seen worse. She has seen so much worse. And, yet, she cannot shake a feeling of general discomfort when he turns to look at her, says the nickname her own parents had given to her when she had been so small on stumbling, uncoordinated legs. Those ash dusted nostrils of hers flare and quiver as if she might cry as he asks her a question. “No, um no, I am not looking for anyone,” she stammers, breathes, defeated. Everything about him is unwelcoming. Everything about him tells her she ought to go back now, to Kensa, where she can tell her leader about the strange man she met in the forest. “I’ll just go.” Elaina really does turn to go; she pivots that golden body, slowly, but decidedly, each movement measured to be as efficient as possible, each stride calculated exactly the way she wants it to appear. She is beautiful in her desolation, beautiful in the way her wavy blonde mane drapes sadly across her forehead, hiding that heart shaped birthmark (a symbol she was told, of her parents love and devotion to one another) from prying eyes. From his prying eyes. But she is so, so much like her father, still, and once she has moved the few steps it takes the uncomfortable tightness in her throat to fade away, she decides she will not just be forced to leave because someone was so unwelcoming. No, she would not just be told what to do like that. The temper of a father she barely knows, if only because they hadn't had long enough on this earth together before he perished, flares behind her amber eyes (her father’s eyes), every bit of her burns with embarrassment for just a moment, and then Elaina, so in love with loneliness, so content in her solitude, pivots back around and stares the stallion down. Somehow, the anger is all but imperceptible. Her expression has not changed except for a certain metallic sheen to her eyes, a strange tightness to that pleasant smile, and the way she tilts her delicate sunshine hued head, as if preparing to make some sort of scathing comment. Being Elaina, of course, no such scathing comment comes, her mother had taught her better than that. Rather, she shakes that anger off and grins as brightly as ever at him. “You know, you seem like you aren't very happy,” she says, making an observation based on first impressions. “Maybe if you were kinder, and learned to let people in, maybe you could be happier,” she says, innocently. This is so uncharacteristic of her, clawing at his chest until she lets him into his heart, at least as someone that does not look at her with such distant eyes and a sneer upon his lips. Her laughter is youthful, pure, not quite the cliche of tinkling chimes but more like the trilling of a silver flute. It is airy, quiet, perhaps even sad. “My name is Elaina. I am from Hyaline, do you live here? What’s your name?” Boldly, the golden palomino little mare rolls her shoulders and looks off to her right, watching as the bird float lazily between the trees. She breathes a quiet sigh, wondering, perhaps, would Frostbane be mad that he had never made good on his deal? That she lives here, breathing and blinking amber eyes. Or would he be enthralled that Elaina still hasn't quite learned how to shut the door to the monsters that come creeping? benjamin and beylani's sunflower-girl |
@[Tunnel]