07-16-2017, 10:56 PM
She has not found the strength to leave yet. She knows she should go, it would be best if she left, wouldn’t it? But instead she haunts the outer islands like a quiet-eyed ghost, as lost to the world as her heart is to her chest. It should be there somewhere, beating and humming, but this pain tells her that it’s gone, missing, an open wound that will not heal. She loves him still, will always love him. Loves their beautiful family, too. But they are so different, more different than either had realized, perhaps, and the forever she had expected had been cut in half, and then half again. It should have made it easier that it was her choice to walk away, her decision to unravel and fall apart. But it didn’t lessen the hurt or the pain or the fear of this new unknown. Of what a life without him might be like.
I want this, I want you, he had said in a kiss against her skin, and she believed him, of course, he would never lie about that. He did love her. But then he had pressed a new truth to her skin with lips that left her feeling burned and carved empty. I have betrayed you again.
Too different, she thinks again, but not bad. Not when they had made such a beautiful family together. Not when the gravity between them was so strong and so right. It just wasn’t enough to hold them together, two irregular pieces of a puzzle, seams that just wouldn’t line up. She was too selfish maybe, asked for more than she should, more than he had ever promised. But it hadn’t been bad, only this end was.
She stands on a beach of white sand, her mane dark and half-dried in tangled curls against her neck. From here she can see the smolder of the volcano, see the rigid red peak and smell the familiar aroma of brimstone on the humid air. It chafes to be this close to everyone, to feel the hum of minds pushing against hers, words and thoughts and phrases unwelcome - but she has never been good at pushing them out. Only Offspring had been able to coax more control from her. More quiet, more peace. She shouldn’t be so close, shouldn’t be here at all but the idea of leaving feels wrong, too.
Her eyes are soft and dark, sad when she hears the rustle of a body travelling nearby and she turns warily to let them fall across a face like hers and like his, a boy who isn’t a boy at all but a man now. “Levi.” She breathes, slipping forward to touch her nose to his muzzle and his cheek and the curve of a muscular neck. He is so much of both of them. Of Isle and Offspring. She sees so much of his father in him, large and built for strength - her back barely comes to his hip - with a wide chest and sloping shoulders, thick feathering on all of his legs. But he is like her too, her brown and her white, beautiful like both of them, and an eye from each. One red and burning, a living coal buried in a perfect face, one dark and brown, wild like hers. “My Levi.” Her voice is whisper soft, made so fragile by the loss of her heart.
She ducks beneath his neck and against his chest, the soft ridge of her brown shoulder pressed to him as she turns her head to lay her cheek against him. “Do you still hate this?” She asks quietly and closes her eyes, remembering how stoic and independent he had always been as a boy. He had never needed her coddling. His sister had been much the same, both of them so wild.
She smiles faintly.
There is pressure in her head, his thoughts made loud by such close proximately, and they leak through despite her effort to block him out. The words feel like ants in her mind, milling and methodical, confusing, though, because it is only disjointed jumbles. Hyaline, fire, home. With a sigh she rubs her cheek against his shoulder and then pulls back a little, those dark eyes lifted to trace this face that is both so new and so familiar. He’s older now, a man instead of a boy, and all of the softness she remembers from the past has been replaced with hard lines and sharp angles - beautiful, though she doesn’t say so. Instead she says, “I’m glad you’re here.” And, touching her lips to his forehead in a quiet kind of kiss, “How are you, love?”
I want this, I want you, he had said in a kiss against her skin, and she believed him, of course, he would never lie about that. He did love her. But then he had pressed a new truth to her skin with lips that left her feeling burned and carved empty. I have betrayed you again.
Too different, she thinks again, but not bad. Not when they had made such a beautiful family together. Not when the gravity between them was so strong and so right. It just wasn’t enough to hold them together, two irregular pieces of a puzzle, seams that just wouldn’t line up. She was too selfish maybe, asked for more than she should, more than he had ever promised. But it hadn’t been bad, only this end was.
She stands on a beach of white sand, her mane dark and half-dried in tangled curls against her neck. From here she can see the smolder of the volcano, see the rigid red peak and smell the familiar aroma of brimstone on the humid air. It chafes to be this close to everyone, to feel the hum of minds pushing against hers, words and thoughts and phrases unwelcome - but she has never been good at pushing them out. Only Offspring had been able to coax more control from her. More quiet, more peace. She shouldn’t be so close, shouldn’t be here at all but the idea of leaving feels wrong, too.
Her eyes are soft and dark, sad when she hears the rustle of a body travelling nearby and she turns warily to let them fall across a face like hers and like his, a boy who isn’t a boy at all but a man now. “Levi.” She breathes, slipping forward to touch her nose to his muzzle and his cheek and the curve of a muscular neck. He is so much of both of them. Of Isle and Offspring. She sees so much of his father in him, large and built for strength - her back barely comes to his hip - with a wide chest and sloping shoulders, thick feathering on all of his legs. But he is like her too, her brown and her white, beautiful like both of them, and an eye from each. One red and burning, a living coal buried in a perfect face, one dark and brown, wild like hers. “My Levi.” Her voice is whisper soft, made so fragile by the loss of her heart.
She ducks beneath his neck and against his chest, the soft ridge of her brown shoulder pressed to him as she turns her head to lay her cheek against him. “Do you still hate this?” She asks quietly and closes her eyes, remembering how stoic and independent he had always been as a boy. He had never needed her coddling. His sister had been much the same, both of them so wild.
She smiles faintly.
There is pressure in her head, his thoughts made loud by such close proximately, and they leak through despite her effort to block him out. The words feel like ants in her mind, milling and methodical, confusing, though, because it is only disjointed jumbles. Hyaline, fire, home. With a sigh she rubs her cheek against his shoulder and then pulls back a little, those dark eyes lifted to trace this face that is both so new and so familiar. He’s older now, a man instead of a boy, and all of the softness she remembers from the past has been replaced with hard lines and sharp angles - beautiful, though she doesn’t say so. Instead she says, “I’m glad you’re here.” And, touching her lips to his forehead in a quiet kind of kiss, “How are you, love?”
@[Levi] let me know if anything at all needs to be changed, and totally feel free to let him feel the pressure of her mind on his, i'm good with anything <3