the salt and the sea, aeris pony

[Cyprin]

An old soul with young eyes, a vintage heart, and a beautiful mind She is not her father, not a hunter treading with whispered footsteps. A twig cracks underfoot that screams across the riverbanks. Her ears vibrate with startle and her gunmetal eyes swirl with a kaleidoscope of color. Her mouth opens to apologize, but there is no one bristling at her, no one scorning her misstep. Many are too focused on the gurgling river current to pay her notice, their eyes trained on a distorted image of themselves as the sun hangs high overhead. Cyprin considers joining them. The fluttering of her heart settles into a calm cadence when she edges toward the river, curiosity pulling her along like a tethered pet until a distraction poses greater interest. Their eyes lock and Cyprin’s breath catches in her throat. She is in the shadow of her family, a face lost in the crowd and most often unattended when she leaves the secure confines of Loess. Yet he sees her, if only for the twig she snapped. A hum of reassurance reverberates quietly through her as she momentarily roots herself as to not flee from his scrutiny and immerse herself in familiarity. A slow, calculated breath pushes against her rib cage and a fluttering blink breaks the brief stare. She pushes herself from the shadows of uncertainty and fear to better look at him and to search the gentle lines of his face. ”Are you always so thoughtful?” She noticed how submerged in his thoughts he was, how his body meticulously dipped into the water until the current exhausted him. There are tales in his eyes, a history that has molded – perhaps even broke – him, and she is suddenly envious of having such experiences. ”I’m Cyprin,” she offers with a voice like chords of a harp – a sweet and gentle lullaby to contrast with the river’s aggression. Cyprin lior and nayl

picture by Jiamin Zhu on pinterest


@[kensley]