02-18-2021, 02:07 AM
You think I'll be the Dark Sky so you can be the Star?
I'll Swallow you Whole.
I'll Swallow you Whole.
When the strange beast swings his fire-filled eyes towards her she reflexively emits a brief but blinding flash of light, but in the wake of it the last of her starlight—that dim glow that still struggled to radiate from her—was entirely extinguished. There is no longer a single thing that appears otherworldly about her; her coat is dull, a pitch black that fades into a dim white. Her eyes have lost the look of galaxies, and maybe if it weren’t for the gravity of the situation keeping her here she would have simply dissolved into stardust.
She is nothing, and she feels herself become nothing, and the sensation is not as painful as she had thought it would be.
But her eyes are still on him, and on the thing that has wedged itself between them. Beneath the fear and adrenaline, there is a dull, gathering pain in her sides, one that she tries to ignore despite the panic that is beginning to press against her chest. When Tiercel leaps at the creature she stumbles backward, and the reality of how helpless she is finally settles over her.
She has never been helpless a day in her life.
She has always had starlight and the power of galaxies in her veins, and now she is left on a cliffside with nothing to wield, and too heavy with child to be of any use.
She will regret it all later. In the nights to follow she will replay the moment that he falls over the ledge, she will be haunted by the image of water morphing into something else entirely, something indescribable. She will see nothing but the final image of him disappearing into a world that she cannot (did not) follow, and she will wonder why she did nothing.
She knows she had screamed his name; she knows because it still feels etched into her throat, it echoes in her own ears, ringing off the walls of Loess. But she had not followed because the pain was now so persistent and severe that instinct and panic both took hold of her and she found herself stumbling, staggering, the remainder of the way to their cave.
It would surprise her, later, that she had any maternal instinct at all; that she had known their daughter was coming, and that she could not stay on that cliff ledge, even if it meant leaving behind the only one that had ever made her feel anything at all.
With sweat already flecked on her sides, she is forced to the hard floor, and she does not have the time to notice how empty their cave is without him there. She does not have time to notice that the peace he had spent so much time projecting had entirely faded, that the walls were simply cold walls, or that there was now no one to watch the outside darkness as she struggled to bring their daughter into the world.
It is by sheer will alone that she makes hardly a sound; an intense desperation to not attract any attention to herself, even though the pain was unlike anything she had ever felt before. With blood staining her white hind legs there is finally a sense of relief, and a few moments where she remains with her cheek pressed to the cool ground, sides still heaving.
The emptiness hits her harder than she had expected; not just the physical emptiness, but the emotions that she has been carrying too suddenly carved out of her, and the gaping hole of Tiercel being gone.
It is the feel of something stirring and moving that convinces her to sit up, and when her eyes settle on the small, pale filly, the surge of emotion is nearly overwhelming. It twists inside of her chest, some painful combination of anguish and love, because their daughter is perfect and she doesn’t even know when or if he will ever see her.
She cleans her face, runs her tongue along her neck and down her back, revealing the iridescent navy blue stripe. Every new discovery, every marking or familiar shape that she knows comes from him feels like someone digging a dagger further between her ribs, and she wonders if this is her punishment—for feeling nothing for so long, to now have to feel it all at once.
“Kamaria,” she whispers into the girl’s mane, having now pulled her close to her chest. She doesn’t stand yet but instead holds her in the dark, and wonders if they can stay here, just the two of them until the sun brings Tiercel back. That maybe by staying here the moment will be frozen in time, and she will be able to share it with him, too.
She is nothing, and she feels herself become nothing, and the sensation is not as painful as she had thought it would be.
But her eyes are still on him, and on the thing that has wedged itself between them. Beneath the fear and adrenaline, there is a dull, gathering pain in her sides, one that she tries to ignore despite the panic that is beginning to press against her chest. When Tiercel leaps at the creature she stumbles backward, and the reality of how helpless she is finally settles over her.
She has never been helpless a day in her life.
She has always had starlight and the power of galaxies in her veins, and now she is left on a cliffside with nothing to wield, and too heavy with child to be of any use.
She will regret it all later. In the nights to follow she will replay the moment that he falls over the ledge, she will be haunted by the image of water morphing into something else entirely, something indescribable. She will see nothing but the final image of him disappearing into a world that she cannot (did not) follow, and she will wonder why she did nothing.
She knows she had screamed his name; she knows because it still feels etched into her throat, it echoes in her own ears, ringing off the walls of Loess. But she had not followed because the pain was now so persistent and severe that instinct and panic both took hold of her and she found herself stumbling, staggering, the remainder of the way to their cave.
It would surprise her, later, that she had any maternal instinct at all; that she had known their daughter was coming, and that she could not stay on that cliff ledge, even if it meant leaving behind the only one that had ever made her feel anything at all.
With sweat already flecked on her sides, she is forced to the hard floor, and she does not have the time to notice how empty their cave is without him there. She does not have time to notice that the peace he had spent so much time projecting had entirely faded, that the walls were simply cold walls, or that there was now no one to watch the outside darkness as she struggled to bring their daughter into the world.
It is by sheer will alone that she makes hardly a sound; an intense desperation to not attract any attention to herself, even though the pain was unlike anything she had ever felt before. With blood staining her white hind legs there is finally a sense of relief, and a few moments where she remains with her cheek pressed to the cool ground, sides still heaving.
The emptiness hits her harder than she had expected; not just the physical emptiness, but the emotions that she has been carrying too suddenly carved out of her, and the gaping hole of Tiercel being gone.
It is the feel of something stirring and moving that convinces her to sit up, and when her eyes settle on the small, pale filly, the surge of emotion is nearly overwhelming. It twists inside of her chest, some painful combination of anguish and love, because their daughter is perfect and she doesn’t even know when or if he will ever see her.
She cleans her face, runs her tongue along her neck and down her back, revealing the iridescent navy blue stripe. Every new discovery, every marking or familiar shape that she knows comes from him feels like someone digging a dagger further between her ribs, and she wonders if this is her punishment—for feeling nothing for so long, to now have to feel it all at once.
“Kamaria,” she whispers into the girl’s mane, having now pulled her close to her chest. She doesn’t stand yet but instead holds her in the dark, and wonders if they can stay here, just the two of them until the sun brings Tiercel back. That maybe by staying here the moment will be frozen in time, and she will be able to share it with him, too.
Islas
I know you never specifically order nonsensical word vomit, but sadly that is all I have in stock right now.
@[Tiercel] @[Kamaria]