07-30-2020, 02:00 PM
@[Isilya]'s family is gone. Neverwhere's family, too, is gone. At least, in a manner of speaking they are, lost to her through time and distance and nature. Somewhere, pieces of the family she left behind are surely living their harsh but mostly-quiet lives, surviving between the seasons in a way, not at all like the customs of Beqanna. She would be something foreign and strange to them, now, but unlike some, unlike Lillianna and Isilya, her heart is not embroidered with that thread of loss and sadness. She cannot find a place in her that misses them, she does not dwell on them, and it is unlikely any of them are wondering about her. They are creatures of the present, of right now, of the trouble or the good that is front of them, and if the past informs their behavior now, they do not dwell deeply on it, or on worry for the future.
Beqanna has changed Neverwhere, at least a little. She does not forget so easily anymore. Her world grows less stark, less absolute, and she finds herself nodding as the little magician speaks. Neverwhere does not often feel lonely, she has spent so much time alone that she prefers the solitude, but the sensation of finding yourself adrift in a world that you don't recognize is familiar to her. Interestingly, perhaps, this is a feeling that she has felt more strongly since being given back her sight. It was easier to ignore things when you couldn't see them, easier not to investigate a world lost in shadow and glare.
But so many details are lost to the sighted that had been apparent before. Scent and sound had served her better than sight ever had. It's a lesson that is hard to hold onto now, when her eyes, though clouded, see so clearly. Blinded by her perfect vision.
"I usually prefer to be alone," and the bald-faced mare pauses on this thought without realizing the ungracious way it may sound to Isilya, already considering with difficulty the next question. What is Nerine like? Nerine is quiet, except for the way the sea storms howl, the way the waves crash, the way the nesting seabirds scream. Cool, except when the summer sun strikes from close above and there is nothing but scant shade to hide beneath. Harsh, but for the gentle lick of fog rising from the sea and pooling into Taiga like milk.
"The North is a land of contrast," her lips twitch into something of a smirk, "it turns its people to ice and stone and shadow. I think it's likely quite different from Tephra."
Beqanna has changed Neverwhere, at least a little. She does not forget so easily anymore. Her world grows less stark, less absolute, and she finds herself nodding as the little magician speaks. Neverwhere does not often feel lonely, she has spent so much time alone that she prefers the solitude, but the sensation of finding yourself adrift in a world that you don't recognize is familiar to her. Interestingly, perhaps, this is a feeling that she has felt more strongly since being given back her sight. It was easier to ignore things when you couldn't see them, easier not to investigate a world lost in shadow and glare.
But so many details are lost to the sighted that had been apparent before. Scent and sound had served her better than sight ever had. It's a lesson that is hard to hold onto now, when her eyes, though clouded, see so clearly. Blinded by her perfect vision.
"I usually prefer to be alone," and the bald-faced mare pauses on this thought without realizing the ungracious way it may sound to Isilya, already considering with difficulty the next question. What is Nerine like? Nerine is quiet, except for the way the sea storms howl, the way the waves crash, the way the nesting seabirds scream. Cool, except when the summer sun strikes from close above and there is nothing but scant shade to hide beneath. Harsh, but for the gentle lick of fog rising from the sea and pooling into Taiga like milk.
"The North is a land of contrast," her lips twitch into something of a smirk, "it turns its people to ice and stone and shadow. I think it's likely quite different from Tephra."
