11-17-2019, 08:53 PM
He is an interesting thing, with his coat of night and wings of fire.
Firen. She knows his name now, and she repeats it over and over again like the chant of prayer until it is safely tucked away, committed to her memory. She didn’t want to forget this strange and beautiful star boy.
“Thank you,” she replies breathily, sincerely. Presumably, that was the correct thing to say - she truly had no idea - no one had ever told her she was beautiful before. Nor was that a word that would have used to describe herself if inquired. And a part of her begged to doubt him. Looking back through a rose-colored lens then maybe, but the girl she had come to identify with was often dull with the film of grime and burs that tangled her mane. Maybe not beautiful, but at least genuine in the kindness she tried to share.
Firen reaches, and she lets him, watching with bright iron toned eyes. Are you real? he asks, and for a moment she is swept in deja-vu, lost in a memory where another boy had asked her something similar. But this time, she understands. He is close enough now, that when she leans she catches his touch at the point of her shoulder. Warm and solid beneath their mutual gesture, she is as real as he.
But she worries that it’s not enough, that he may still feel alone, or isolated or lost. With a tangible whim, the fire of her coat melts to the grey it would soon become, an image of the future self she had yet to discover. A span of a heartbeat she lingers like that, until her contrasting pelt collides and the grey overtakes the white. Her coat grows heavier and hooves are exchanged for paws until the horse he had just known is no longer there. Instead a gray wolf with scattered silver highlights is found in her place now, though the chime of her light voice goes unchanged.
“Can you feel me?”
@[Firen]
Firen. She knows his name now, and she repeats it over and over again like the chant of prayer until it is safely tucked away, committed to her memory. She didn’t want to forget this strange and beautiful star boy.
“Thank you,” she replies breathily, sincerely. Presumably, that was the correct thing to say - she truly had no idea - no one had ever told her she was beautiful before. Nor was that a word that would have used to describe herself if inquired. And a part of her begged to doubt him. Looking back through a rose-colored lens then maybe, but the girl she had come to identify with was often dull with the film of grime and burs that tangled her mane. Maybe not beautiful, but at least genuine in the kindness she tried to share.
Firen reaches, and she lets him, watching with bright iron toned eyes. Are you real? he asks, and for a moment she is swept in deja-vu, lost in a memory where another boy had asked her something similar. But this time, she understands. He is close enough now, that when she leans she catches his touch at the point of her shoulder. Warm and solid beneath their mutual gesture, she is as real as he.
But she worries that it’s not enough, that he may still feel alone, or isolated or lost. With a tangible whim, the fire of her coat melts to the grey it would soon become, an image of the future self she had yet to discover. A span of a heartbeat she lingers like that, until her contrasting pelt collides and the grey overtakes the white. Her coat grows heavier and hooves are exchanged for paws until the horse he had just known is no longer there. Instead a gray wolf with scattered silver highlights is found in her place now, though the chime of her light voice goes unchanged.
“Can you feel me?”
@[Firen]
