the heaviness in my heart belongs to gravity; kensley

[larke]

carried by the current of the morning
miles below the surface of the dawn

She has heard of how Beqanna has changed throughout the years.

She has heard about how it shifted and changed and the way that the world woke up one day to something that was entirely new. Her mother had been born during the division of that time. She had been born on the mountain with the newness spread out before them and thus has never known anything differently.

But she still told the stories to Larke.

And she still carries them with her.

So his answer, as vague as it is, stirs something in her breast. Enough for her to angle her head and look at him a little more curiously. Her ears prick just a little between the waves of her mane and forelock; her sage eyes brighten just a little. “Were you of the old Beqanna?” she asks before she can stop herself, not even realizing that to some, it may be the only Beqanna—the only truth in a world constantly changing.

“My mother tells me stories of it and the kingdoms that reigned. The Chamber and the Gates and…” her voice trails off a little as she laughs under her breath. “All the names that you must know better than I.”

Silence again that stretches between them and nearly snaps.

But she breathes again when he returns the question.

“Wandering. Just trying to clear my head, I think.”

It feels strange to be away from home without her family—especially her brother. She has never been one to adventure, or converse strangers, but she finds that she does not mind passing the time with him.

this is not the place that I was born in
but it doesn't mean it's not the place where I belong

larke