12-20-2019, 01:34 AM
sometimes I'm terrified of my heart;
of its constant hunger for whatever it is it wants —
“Yes, love illusions,” she repeats, blinking her black eyes at him as though she’s not entirely sure what was confusing about the way she had said it the first time. “I can sense what someone else wants – or who they want.” She pauses, and there is a small frown again. “Well, I will be able to, anyway. It’s hard now. I try to practice, but no one knows who or what they want.” Her mother had been her first target, and possibly one of the most frustrating. Anyone that knew even an inkling about her mother wouldn’t be surprised to hear that, but Desire had thought it should be easy. She had been surprised to discover that it was not always her father that her mother wanted most; that it fluctuated wildly between him and others. A stallion of emerald green, and another a pale silver with wings, and sometimes the black stallion with the vibrantly yellow eyes – and recently the albino stallion with bright red eyes.
Pteron reminded her a little bit of her mother – that jumping, erratic vibe that she couldn’t quite pin down. There was one that seemed to call out to her the most, though, but the images were fleeting; she just remembers antlers and purple eyes.
“I’ve never been to Taiga. What’s it like?” She knows Taiga is a forest of evergreen trees, and she can feel an excitement spark inside of her chest. “Is it like this forest here?” She says with a gesture of her nebula-colored head, before tilting it upwards to peer at the sky that just barely peaked between the tops of the trees. She turns her eyes back to him when he asks where her mother is, a shadow of confusion cast across her face as she says carelessly, “I don’t know. Stave and I left our mother awhile ago. I don’t see her often.” It doesn’t occur to her that there should have been sorrow in her voice, or worry, or some thread of emotion. For as long as she could remember all she had ever needed was Stave; their mother was an afterthought.
Pteron reminded her a little bit of her mother – that jumping, erratic vibe that she couldn’t quite pin down. There was one that seemed to call out to her the most, though, but the images were fleeting; she just remembers antlers and purple eyes.
“I’ve never been to Taiga. What’s it like?” She knows Taiga is a forest of evergreen trees, and she can feel an excitement spark inside of her chest. “Is it like this forest here?” She says with a gesture of her nebula-colored head, before tilting it upwards to peer at the sky that just barely peaked between the tops of the trees. She turns her eyes back to him when he asks where her mother is, a shadow of confusion cast across her face as she says carelessly, “I don’t know. Stave and I left our mother awhile ago. I don’t see her often.” It doesn’t occur to her that there should have been sorrow in her voice, or worry, or some thread of emotion. For as long as she could remember all she had ever needed was Stave; their mother was an afterthought.
Desire
@[Pteron]