I should have loved a thunderbird instead
at least when spring comes they roar back again
Aegean does not have much experience with pain so he has no way of naming this dull ache in his chest. He has no words for the way that some of the world around him has been bled of its color, the stars losing their shine, the night sky turning nearly monotone. He does not know how to explain the way that he still wanders but it does not feel endlessly hopeful; his feet weigh heavy and his tongue is dry. His throat tight.
He has little words for the way that each breath draws knives into his lungs.
The way he wakes confused and reaching for something that is never there.
Today his wanderings take him south of Taiga and Hyaline, although the forest is still dense. It reminds him of his last time in the wooden lands and the thought leaves his chest throbbing with that unnamed pain. His purple eyes shut for a moment as he breathes around it, lets the pain swell up into his throat to leave a bitter taste in his mouth before it washes out and settles, falling like dust through his ribcage.
When they open again, he takes a second to let them focus before he flicks an ear to catch the sound of the water rushing somewhere beyond his current eyesight. It will be dark soon, he thinks, glancing up to catch the barest hint of dying light filtering between the trees and, almost as a comfort, he begins to paint his illusions around him. It darkens the sky and brings the stars down around him, almost like a blanket.
He gives himself the illusion of weight, of gravity, and when he moves forward, it feels as though he is moving underwater—the night sky pressing upon the curve of his spine. It is fitting, he thinks, as though he were breathing in that vast endlessness of space and when he reaches the riverbank, his exhale is long and slow, nostrils flaring. With the slightest tip of his chin, he sends the stars around him into a spinning array, keeping letting them illuminate the roaring river below before he sends some of them crashing into the waves, sending faux spray upward as though the plummeting star fire truly disturbed the water.
Aegean swallows, tips his antlered head back, and breathes in the abyss.
He does not notice that he glows as bright as his creations.
He does not notice when someone enters his space.
He just breathes.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead
(I think I made you up inside my head.)