01-11-2017, 05:32 PM
(This post was last modified: 01-11-2017, 05:35 PM by Spear + Spark.)
ooc: I don't know what this is, I'm sorry! :/
Spear & Spark
Time is not only funny but fickle, too.
Quite possibly as fickle as the slick hearts inside their sleek chests.
Her heart has never been more certain though, in both love and rhythm.
Each beat in her breast is a name, a sonnet of arterial blood - Spear and Giver, Giver and Spear.
(Spear is already incensed with jealousy though he cannot begin to guess why, only that Spark is changed, more than a little removed from him in ways that he’d never imagine - ways he’d never suspect could ever happen. He loved her, longed only for her happiness but he was her entire reason for happiness, how quick could she find another to usurp him in that role? Spear failed to think that he’d always have her, not as a stallion covets a mare, but because they are twins and he is her brother. He lies to himself, tells himself it is bloodright and birthright - Spark is he, like Alight thinks Giver is hers.)
Spark can hear the lie in his voice - he is not fine, and it concerns her because he has never told a lie to her, not her - never her. She cannot accept it and because of it, she encroaches upon his space with a bold brush of her lips against his cheek. “I did, and you?” Spark knows he has family too; these are the ties that bind them and the leashes about their necks that they slip loose from so that they can find one another, like stars in the dark that call a constellation home.
(Always, they gravitate towards one another.)
(Always.)
He is oddly bereft though… no stars surround him, and she realizes that he has suffered more than she ever could have imagined - he’s been struck dim and lacking, by magics and meanness that came from the Mountain’s upbringing. For the first time, she is hardened by an anger that seizes violent hold of her limbs, rendering them still and immovable. She fights to keep her mouth shut lest she anger the ears of a wind that should not be listening, but the Mountain hears all things and makes the universe bend to its bidding. Spark sighs, and the anger leaves her in small fits of shivers that bring her to his side. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, knowing that it is not enough - could never be enough, and that angers her all over again.
Her face nestles in the crook of his furry flesh, eyes shut tight against the darkness that looms all around them. Sunset starts to leave them and in its wake, it trails a glow that startles her eyes open - “Giver,” she blurts out, surprised as she takes a step back from his side to make sure she is really seeing what she is seeing. “Look,” she breathes aloud to him in a pointed gesture of muzzle - “You’re glowing!”
Quite possibly as fickle as the slick hearts inside their sleek chests.
Her heart has never been more certain though, in both love and rhythm.
Each beat in her breast is a name, a sonnet of arterial blood - Spear and Giver, Giver and Spear.
(Spear is already incensed with jealousy though he cannot begin to guess why, only that Spark is changed, more than a little removed from him in ways that he’d never imagine - ways he’d never suspect could ever happen. He loved her, longed only for her happiness but he was her entire reason for happiness, how quick could she find another to usurp him in that role? Spear failed to think that he’d always have her, not as a stallion covets a mare, but because they are twins and he is her brother. He lies to himself, tells himself it is bloodright and birthright - Spark is he, like Alight thinks Giver is hers.)
Spark can hear the lie in his voice - he is not fine, and it concerns her because he has never told a lie to her, not her - never her. She cannot accept it and because of it, she encroaches upon his space with a bold brush of her lips against his cheek. “I did, and you?” Spark knows he has family too; these are the ties that bind them and the leashes about their necks that they slip loose from so that they can find one another, like stars in the dark that call a constellation home.
(Always, they gravitate towards one another.)
(Always.)
He is oddly bereft though… no stars surround him, and she realizes that he has suffered more than she ever could have imagined - he’s been struck dim and lacking, by magics and meanness that came from the Mountain’s upbringing. For the first time, she is hardened by an anger that seizes violent hold of her limbs, rendering them still and immovable. She fights to keep her mouth shut lest she anger the ears of a wind that should not be listening, but the Mountain hears all things and makes the universe bend to its bidding. Spark sighs, and the anger leaves her in small fits of shivers that bring her to his side. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, knowing that it is not enough - could never be enough, and that angers her all over again.
Her face nestles in the crook of his furry flesh, eyes shut tight against the darkness that looms all around them. Sunset starts to leave them and in its wake, it trails a glow that startles her eyes open - “Giver,” she blurts out, surprised as she takes a step back from his side to make sure she is really seeing what she is seeing. “Look,” she breathes aloud to him in a pointed gesture of muzzle - “You’re glowing!”