Tangerine
In the middle of the night, I go walking in my sleep
When she had found him in Tephra she had come to say goodbye, for a time, until she could find herself again. But Warrick had not allowed her to say the words, and he had saved her heart from the torment of another goodbye. She had not argued, of course, and Tang had allowed the father of her children to hold her in her most vulnerable moment, raw and fragile as she had never been before.
She had poured her soul out to him during the following journey, her story of Carnages torture spilling out in a flood of emotions. And he had been so patient, soothing her in ways that only someone who has also known deep sorrow could.
She had never loved another soul more. She had never been more grateful.
After weeks of traveling, they had reached her homeland, far removed from the magic of Beqanna. The rolling plains and nomadic people had welcomed them warmly, her mane had grown thick to cascade over the spiral scar that only Warrick (and Carnage) knew was there, to conceal the trauma of something that was a now a distant memory from another life.
In the beginning, he had been hesitant, like his first kisses on her golden skin so many years ago. But he soon seemed to feel at home among the free-folk. She gave him time, they were in no rush and it wasn't long before he felt the stirring of her people's music in his bones.
Her lover had summoned thunder with his hoves, joining the ancestral dance of celebration - filling the space at her side she had left vacant just for this occasion. It was a dance she had danced hundreds of time before but never had she danced with such joy as she did that night. Tangerine had lost apart of herself on the night of the Longdance, but she knew that part could not have a better keeper.
She didn't know how much time had passed, they had simply lived - and her sleep had been beautifully dreamless.
Eventually, the time came for Warrick to return to their children. With sadness she bid him goodbye, placing a small orange feather behind one ear and a promise that she would return to him soon.
After months of interrupted restoration and repose the whispers, the memories of the future, had returned. She woke in the night, a dream as thick as poison fog around her, hot tears now frozen on her cheeks. Her sleep had grown fitful as their time apart stretched longer and the world he inhabited became more clear than her own.The creme and honey mare knows it is time for her to journey again and northern wind swept her back to the land of her children, born and unborn.
She does not resist.
She had already seen this anyway.
In sleep, the Goddess whispers the future to her mare - in sleep Tang is again Divine.
She watched his travels, his coronation, she watched as the intimate moments of his life were shoved before her third eye, unbidden. She dreamed of those who would be drawn to his crown like vultures to carrion, of those who would sooth the darkness he tried to hide.
--
Tangerine enters Tephra under the new moon. She doesn't call for Warrick, she silently makes her way to their place. Anticipation builds in her belly as she catches his scent, not fresh but simply lingering on the plants and in the earth, stirred up by her churning hooves. The warm glow from the volcano guides her and she finds the entrance to the grotto with ease. Her lover's scent lingers on the stone walls, washing over her, and Tang can't help but feel a sense of relief. With reverence, the painted mare enters into the belly of the volcano, following the well-used path until he stands in front of the mirror-still pool at the end the trail.
"Warrick!" she inhales his name, as his face appears on the surface of the pool below her. But nearly as soon as the vision appears she tears her honey gaze away from the water to look down the path she had just traveled.
@[Warrick]
IM SO HAPPY
also, i was going to sleep on this to make sure i like it... but now i just want to post it because im so excited to be writing Tang again :|