She knows that the stars are more than what they appear. (But, oh, what she can't imagine - she can't even dream of the kind of relationship that the Angel has with the heavens.)
Her earliest memories are of being told that they have names and dreams and secrets just as the earthbound souls do. And she has often wondered if the two worlds mirror each other; do the stars race across the sky as the horses race on the ground? Is there anywhere where the dreams intermingle and breathe life into something else entirely? Does a star ever fall from the sky and take the shape of a mortal instead?
The Angel shares a secret smile and Lilliana almost arches a brow. A spark brightens behind her blue eyes and Lilliana agrees with @[Ryatah]. The pale mare might not be as timeless as the stars but as an immortal, if there is anyone who could make an educated guess about the heavens and the knowledge of galaxies, it would be someone who has spent (at least) centuries beneath them.
"I think that’s the part that unnerves me the most,” the Taigan mare admits. "If it’s quiet here then doesn’t that mean something is going on somewhere else?” In the fog. In the shadows. The rest of Beqanna.
"Twins,” Lilliana explains. "Colts who will have me as grey as you before they are grown,” the chestnut mare teases. Whatever apprehension had been on her face melts away because speaking of Nashua and Yanhua is something that brings her joy; it is easy to glow at the mention of her two boys. Tilting her head towards the winged mare, picking up on a scent that drifts towards her prompts the copper mare to ask, "What about you? Any new pieces of immortality since we last spoke?”
The conversation shouldn’t go this way but it does.
A press against her golden flame and the world falls away - golden sun, golden eyes, golden sands. When it comes back, Taiga almost blinds her and she firmly shakes her head. "I’m sorry,” she apologizes again because she isn’t sure what else to say. Her emotions slip through her cracks so easily these days, blows right past her like the element she hails from: wind. "I-,” Lilli says, reminding herself to focus on how solid Taiga feels beneath her hooves. The ground is loamy, cushioned by generations of pine needles and dark soil from fires and floods past.
"It’s alright,” she exhales, "I just need to get my bearings again.”
Lilliana swallows and admits, "I’m not used to … whatever the Mountain did to me.” It was worth it, she reminds herself. Craft and Anatomy were saved. They were given the chance to rewrite their own ending and here they stay in Taiga, where they offer their magic and protection. It was worth it. (She ignores the cry of a dying man to his murdered mother, 'is this enough?’) "It’s overwhelming. Like someone stole my sight.” And her senses and sometimes, the worst part of all, her emotions.
Her blues drop again to the wings that grace Ryatah’s ethereal form. "Is that how you got those? The Mountain?”
LILLIANA
if i ever get to heaven
i've got a long list of questions