10-21-2019, 11:25 PM
She lets herself drift down, down, down toward the beach until her hooves reach the rocky shore. There is nothing here but sea and stone, no sign that this granite had been red a moment before, that this boulder had held up a broken blue body. Lepis cannot hear her own breathing - too loud, too heavy, hyperventilation - and the sound of rending flesh is surely her own imagination.
No, she sees as a shadow drifts across and she glances up without thinking (instinct, however well she might quell it), it was not her own mind. The feathered furred beaked clawed thing becomes a shape she knows, the sight and sound is nauseating. Or perhaps it is her crying that sours her stomach, or her guilt, or any of the other dozen nameless emotions that she cannot seem to stifle. She cannot find her magic.
Good. She doesn't deserve it anymore, not after what she has done. She hopes it stays gone, that this flood of regret and pain and anxiety never fades, that it reminds her forever of this day.
He says her name but Lepis can't look at him, can't bear to face what she knows she will see in his eyes. She cannot bring herself to look at what she has done, to see the way Wolfbane will look at her he knows what she truly is, what she is capable of. Words are not enough for an apology, not one of this magnitude, and the bile in her throat chokes back anything she might have said.
'I'll come back' he says, and she looks up only in time to see him look down, and the breath that had caught in her throat is choked back down. He means for the children, she realizes; she is not fit to raise them. Lepis nods, the motion stiff, and only one tear escapes to slide down her golden cheek after he turns away. It's easy to imagine he tells her goodbye, tells her that he loves her the way he always had when he's left her side before.
She's always had a good imagination, after all.
Quietly, so quietly no horse might hear, she tells the shrinking golden shape: "I love you more."
@[Wolfbane]
No, she sees as a shadow drifts across and she glances up without thinking (instinct, however well she might quell it), it was not her own mind. The feathered furred beaked clawed thing becomes a shape she knows, the sight and sound is nauseating. Or perhaps it is her crying that sours her stomach, or her guilt, or any of the other dozen nameless emotions that she cannot seem to stifle. She cannot find her magic.
Good. She doesn't deserve it anymore, not after what she has done. She hopes it stays gone, that this flood of regret and pain and anxiety never fades, that it reminds her forever of this day.
He says her name but Lepis can't look at him, can't bear to face what she knows she will see in his eyes. She cannot bring herself to look at what she has done, to see the way Wolfbane will look at her he knows what she truly is, what she is capable of. Words are not enough for an apology, not one of this magnitude, and the bile in her throat chokes back anything she might have said.
'I'll come back' he says, and she looks up only in time to see him look down, and the breath that had caught in her throat is choked back down. He means for the children, she realizes; she is not fit to raise them. Lepis nods, the motion stiff, and only one tear escapes to slide down her golden cheek after he turns away. It's easy to imagine he tells her goodbye, tells her that he loves her the way he always had when he's left her side before.
She's always had a good imagination, after all.
Quietly, so quietly no horse might hear, she tells the shrinking golden shape: "I love you more."
@[Wolfbane]
