you could break my heart in two, but when it heals, it beats for you
Let Heartfire ask her that question a year from now, months, or days even and the answer might be different every time. She has not yet reached the point where the answer is obvious and imperative. There are small answers, pieces waiting to fit together properly. The shape of the thing she is craving not yet done shifting.
Just as she is not done taking shape, not done accepting that the light and darkness of her must exist together or risk blowing each other apart. Or rather, she’ll just blow herself apart and force it all together. Meaningful growth seems to come on the heels of disaster...doesn’t it? Since neither of them seem to possess the ability to divine the future there is no notion of that disaster on the horizon today. Even if it may be just the start she’ll need toward an answer to that question.
She remains silent in part because she does not know what it is she wants, it does not have a name. It has a feeling though, a playful darkness that suits her. It is then she realizes that it does not need to be called anything at all, and it might even be better that it isn’t.
Heartfire knows her own mind. The little mustang is a tumbling whisp batted about by her own appetites. “Perhaps we can.” Though she knows not what it is that Heartfire herself desires, and maybe Kensa will regret saying so but there are so many things she does just to see what happens, what lies on the other side. Kensa doesn’t have any devilish one-liners to sling out and propel their friendship into motion and so she sighs at herself and only says “Where would you suggest we begin?”
Kensa
