it erupts like a volcano, then subsides.
And when it subsides, you have to make a decision.
She has been visiting the quiet pool more often of late. She finds the sacred place soothing, a balm to her injured soul. Everything has changed, and so quickly it seems. But in this place at least, she can find some small modicum of comfort.
She normally comes when it is quiet, when the others are not around. But it seems she is not the only one coming here more often of late. She knows, of course, that Ramiel and Weir visit frequently. It would be nearly impossible not to know. Her empathy grows stronger, even as the creatures in the pool do. She has become so attuned to the other residents of the Dale that she can recognize them all now without even seeing their faces. She tries not to listen for the most part. They must certainly want privacy in their lives, just as she does. She does her best to give them that, but sometimes it is difficult. Especially when emotions are high. And perhaps it had been wrong of her, but in trying to give them their privacy, she often found it best if she were the one to hide away. She shouldn’t have done so, she knows. She feels the shame of it, but it seems her choices are limited these days.
But today, even though she knows that they are there, she chooses not to leave. She has been starved for companionship, and she knows that they will not turn her away. Besides, she has a strong desire to see her own spirit animal today. The lovely creature always seems to have a way of soothing her oft damaged soul.
As she breaks through the closely growing trees of the forest into the small clearing that contains the spring, a warm smile curves her dark lips. Her cinnamon eyes move casually from one stallion to the next, her gaze bright and friendly. She dips her head slightly, the small nod an easy and customary greeting of hers.
“Ramiel, Weir. It is so good to see you this morning. I hope you are both well.”
She had arrived in time to hear the last of Weir’s words, something about Darwin being a tortoise (he had a much fancier name for him than that, of course) and them being just about ready to emerge. This part she knows of course. She is looking forward to the time when her own spirit might manifest.
Coming to a halt before the still water, her bright gaze drops to the surface. She had long since grown used to the oddity of gazing into the quiet pond and seeing not her own reflection, but that of a refined, elegant bird.
“It will be good to see more than simply their reflection, don’t you think?”
You have to work out whether your roots
have so entwined together
that it is inconceivable that you should ever part.
Because this is what love is.
I'm really sorry this took so long :/