heaven i'll never come home
Aloy has flown through nights with none other than the stars for company. She has enjoyed the sight of them, the way they spin around her as she surges, and pirouettes and banks in the dark. They are a distant marvel though, and she knows them to be farther than she can fathom (a thought that makes her head feel as though her brain is stretching against the roof of her skull). Aloy has always been more than overwhelmed by the wonder of the earth below and the sky within her reach, but she does not discount the awe of the heavens beyond her wings. Even if she does not understand how grand it really is.
She listens as Shipka speaks, and an ear twitches at the insinuation that she believes she owns the air above their heads but she is not defensive. She knows she does not feel that way, knows too that for her the sky is another wide open space, like a hundred million miles of prairie beneath her hooves. Impossible to touch all of it. She might say so, but it’s too many words in the end.
Staircases of starlight remind her that she is back in Beqanna. That her wings that have occasionally been a novelty in her wanderings are once again as commonplace and ordinary as dandelions. They still hold value for her, she was taught to be proud of them, but here there are so many more amazing gifts. “How far did you go? Until it was very cold or further still?” Where the air becomes too thin to breathe? Or perhaps not, Aloy does not know how quickly a starlight staircase could be built and climbed though she does try to imagine.
There is something in the way Shipka so easily opens up to Aloy about her dreams and wishes to walk in those celestial places that makes her more willing to speak. Only moments before she’d been trying to curb herself, thinking that perhaps she was still tired and thus saying more than she normally would to someone she does not know. Thus she finds herself wanting to reassure the filly that her wishes might be attainable. Someday. Somehow. “Someone I know was once given the thing they wanted most. It wasn’t the chance to walk among stars but she said it meant as much to her as that seems to you. A genie granted her a wish… You’re lucky this is your home, those kind of things happen here.”
For someone who is not eager to be verbose, Aloy finds she often doesn’t consider what she is saying when she should. That might be a skill learned with years that she has not yet lived. Those kind of things happen here. They do. She knows. The aforementioned wish was supposed to mean something more for her than prettiness and moody headwear, but she doesn't think it ever will. Doesn’t think she wants it to. As for making her own wishes, the thought of which now having silenced her… No, things are probably beyond that now. Her look is pensive, and worry digs in about her green eyes but she breathes through it, swishing her white tipped tail about her fetlocks and refocusing Shipka. Eager to be distracted by what the girl thinks of genies and wishes and such things.
@[Shipka]nuu I love her