03-07-2022, 03:05 PM
BUT I HOPE I NEVER LOSE THE BRUISES THAT YOU LEFT BEHIND
When he had agreed to follow her to Taiga she had been surprised by the warmth that flooded through her. She hadn’t realized how much of her hope was hanging on that invitation, that for him to deny her would have been far more disappointing than she would ever let on. She had thought that by burying her wants and desires that it meant she did not have to feel them, that she could pretend they didn’t exist. But in that moment that hung, suspended, as she waited to hear his answer, she realized that it would have broken something inside of her all the same.
She had smiled at him, a true smile, and said, “I’ll explain it to you once we get there.”
They enter from the south, the forest that flanks it gradually giving way to trees so tall that even when she cranes her neck back she cannot see the tops of them. But they do not go towards the heart of the land. Instead, she veers west, following a familiar path that leads to a now unfamiliar coast. She has already been here, once, to look at the new border — at the sea that now separates Taiga and Tephra. She stops at the edge, where water now lapped at an unnatural shore, and she turns her antlered head as Voro comes alongside her.
“There was a time when Tephra and Taiga bordered each other. Before the earthquake that caused the sea to rise.” Without thinking she steps closer to him, and this time when his wings brush against her sides she does not move away. The feeling of any part of him touching her threatens to fog her mind, to make her lose interest in the story she is trying to tell, and it is around a steadily increasing heartbeat that she continues. “When I was born, everything was on fire. My mother lived in Tephra at the time, when war broke out between them and Loess. Loess had dragons and those that could bend shadows, and after they set Tephra on fire they shuttered away the sun until everything was dark.” She pauses to look at him, a small smile twisted on her lips. “That’s what I remember about being born—shadow and smoke. And having to learn to run before I ever figured out how to walk.”
With a twist of her head she looks behind her, at the army of redwood trees. “After that, Taiga was like a second home. I spent just as much time there as I did Tephra. It always seemed to suit me a bit more than Tephra did, yet I never stayed.” Here, a small frown shadows her face, having never really considered the why’s of that—why she never stayed, why nothing ever really felt like home. Her vibrant eyes turn back to him, and she wonders again at the feeling that blossoms in her chest when she looks at him, when she tries to speak around it. “We could stay, if you wanted. Or we can keep looking.”
She had smiled at him, a true smile, and said, “I’ll explain it to you once we get there.”
They enter from the south, the forest that flanks it gradually giving way to trees so tall that even when she cranes her neck back she cannot see the tops of them. But they do not go towards the heart of the land. Instead, she veers west, following a familiar path that leads to a now unfamiliar coast. She has already been here, once, to look at the new border — at the sea that now separates Taiga and Tephra. She stops at the edge, where water now lapped at an unnatural shore, and she turns her antlered head as Voro comes alongside her.
“There was a time when Tephra and Taiga bordered each other. Before the earthquake that caused the sea to rise.” Without thinking she steps closer to him, and this time when his wings brush against her sides she does not move away. The feeling of any part of him touching her threatens to fog her mind, to make her lose interest in the story she is trying to tell, and it is around a steadily increasing heartbeat that she continues. “When I was born, everything was on fire. My mother lived in Tephra at the time, when war broke out between them and Loess. Loess had dragons and those that could bend shadows, and after they set Tephra on fire they shuttered away the sun until everything was dark.” She pauses to look at him, a small smile twisted on her lips. “That’s what I remember about being born—shadow and smoke. And having to learn to run before I ever figured out how to walk.”
With a twist of her head she looks behind her, at the army of redwood trees. “After that, Taiga was like a second home. I spent just as much time there as I did Tephra. It always seemed to suit me a bit more than Tephra did, yet I never stayed.” Here, a small frown shadows her face, having never really considered the why’s of that—why she never stayed, why nothing ever really felt like home. Her vibrant eyes turn back to him, and she wonders again at the feeling that blossoms in her chest when she looks at him, when she tries to speak around it. “We could stay, if you wanted. Or we can keep looking.”
A I S L Y N
@Voracious
