You think I'll be the Dark Sky so you can be the Star?
I'll Swallow you Whole.
I'll Swallow you Whole.
She was afraid to trust the return of peace and a predictable rhythm to her life. She did not trust the sun when it rose in the sky, and she did not trust the stars as they blinked innocently in the velvet-dark of the night as if they had never been gone. She did not trust Tiercel’s presence even when he was warm and breathing next to her, because she did not understand how to cope with this newfound fear of losing things that she loves when she has already seen them be taken from her.
She had known that to live a mortal existence like this meant that nothing was permanent; things down here died so easily, and while she had always noticed this, she had never had the capacity to care.
She can’t figure out if it’s better or worse now that she can.
She can’t decide if having it all is worth the risk of one day losing it, again, because she is so sure that the next time Tiercel is gone he will not be coming back, and she doesn’t know what happens when an earth-bound star dies of heartache.
These are the thoughts that keep her awake tonight, her eyes open and staring into the moonlight that she can see illuminating the entrance of the cave. Even though they no longer needed to hide the cave felt like a sanctuary, especially in these frigid winter months, and even though Kamaria likely didn’t want to, Islas managed to convince her to spend most of her nights here. Islas was not afraid of the night, or the dark, but she was afraid of losing her daughter, though the rational part of her mind knows she cannot keep her close forever.
Having Tiercel and Kamaria both here was usually enough to abate her worries, but tonight they have taken on a life of their own. The racing thoughts, compounded by the restlessness of the twins that now seemed to constantly fight for room inside of her (she hadn’t been surprised at all to learn she was pregnant again, just as she is sure it hadn’t surprised Tiercel—she isn’t always the best at voicing how she feels, but she is good at showing it), agitated her enough to inspire her to leave the warmth of the cave.
She stirs from where she had been curled against Tiercel’s side, doing her best not to wake him. It didn’t seem that he slept often either, and she can feel the faintest threads of what she has come to know as guilt tighten in her chest. She does not entirely know all of the things that haunt him, or what he went through in the underworld, but she understands enough. Enough that she does not like to be away from him, even if it is only to step outside the cave for only a moment, but another kick against her ribs—hard enough to make her suck in a quiet, sharp breath—reminds her that she will disturb him more by constantly fidgeting alongside him.
The great expanse of the starlit sky is what greets her when she steps out, and though she is mere steps from the mouth of the cave it is enough for the tension to slowly ebb from her with the sigh that she exhales. The sky is surprisingly clear for winter, alight with stars and moonlight, and the flowers spun of starlight nestled in the long strands of her mane seem to shimmer brighter in response.
A sound from behind her causes her head to turn, and when she sees Tiercel she offers him a small, apologetic smile. “I tried not to wake you,” she murmurs into his neck once he is close enough, before letting her pale nose trail down to his chest where she breathes another sigh across his skin. “I couldn’t sleep.”
She had known that to live a mortal existence like this meant that nothing was permanent; things down here died so easily, and while she had always noticed this, she had never had the capacity to care.
She can’t figure out if it’s better or worse now that she can.
She can’t decide if having it all is worth the risk of one day losing it, again, because she is so sure that the next time Tiercel is gone he will not be coming back, and she doesn’t know what happens when an earth-bound star dies of heartache.
These are the thoughts that keep her awake tonight, her eyes open and staring into the moonlight that she can see illuminating the entrance of the cave. Even though they no longer needed to hide the cave felt like a sanctuary, especially in these frigid winter months, and even though Kamaria likely didn’t want to, Islas managed to convince her to spend most of her nights here. Islas was not afraid of the night, or the dark, but she was afraid of losing her daughter, though the rational part of her mind knows she cannot keep her close forever.
Having Tiercel and Kamaria both here was usually enough to abate her worries, but tonight they have taken on a life of their own. The racing thoughts, compounded by the restlessness of the twins that now seemed to constantly fight for room inside of her (she hadn’t been surprised at all to learn she was pregnant again, just as she is sure it hadn’t surprised Tiercel—she isn’t always the best at voicing how she feels, but she is good at showing it), agitated her enough to inspire her to leave the warmth of the cave.
She stirs from where she had been curled against Tiercel’s side, doing her best not to wake him. It didn’t seem that he slept often either, and she can feel the faintest threads of what she has come to know as guilt tighten in her chest. She does not entirely know all of the things that haunt him, or what he went through in the underworld, but she understands enough. Enough that she does not like to be away from him, even if it is only to step outside the cave for only a moment, but another kick against her ribs—hard enough to make her suck in a quiet, sharp breath—reminds her that she will disturb him more by constantly fidgeting alongside him.
The great expanse of the starlit sky is what greets her when she steps out, and though she is mere steps from the mouth of the cave it is enough for the tension to slowly ebb from her with the sigh that she exhales. The sky is surprisingly clear for winter, alight with stars and moonlight, and the flowers spun of starlight nestled in the long strands of her mane seem to shimmer brighter in response.
A sound from behind her causes her head to turn, and when she sees Tiercel she offers him a small, apologetic smile. “I tried not to wake you,” she murmurs into his neck once he is close enough, before letting her pale nose trail down to his chest where she breathes another sigh across his skin. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Islas
@[Tiercel]