12-05-2020, 04:30 PM
"Well...
It's probably a terrible idea. Does he know that he's talking to a girl who built a staircase of starlight and climbed until dawn tore it down again and that luck alone landed her safely on the Mountain? Does he know she's made her decision before he asks the question? That she's made it without even knowing his name, or what he intends to do?
He says they'll get there through trial and error and the starry darkness of her tail flicks, agitated, thoughtful. She should be afraid, she knows it, and some part of her is, because what is a crack across the sky except for something terrible? Has anything good ever come out of fractures that should not be? Rifts in the sky, in the earth, in the soul? But it beckons her like a crooked, toothy, smile, a crocodile grin, and all she wants is to see what's on the other side. Shipka is afraid, and the fear peels away at her heart, but she is also headstrong and naive, too, and she meets his challenge with a set jaw and eyes full of moonlight.
How do you prepare for a journey like this? Does it happen in a blink, or will they fly? Is there something she should do? A thunderstorm of questions pours down on her. And then she smiles, the seriousness has gone, though some memory of worry remains in the slant of her ear and the way her breath trembles in freckled nostrils. Even the wrongness of the broken sky is a chance to walk among the stars. Sparkling silver light leaps up around her and Shipka springs nimbly onto it in a shower of bright sparks that fall around the stallion like snow.
"I guess we should get started."
It's probably a terrible idea. Does he know that he's talking to a girl who built a staircase of starlight and climbed until dawn tore it down again and that luck alone landed her safely on the Mountain? Does he know she's made her decision before he asks the question? That she's made it without even knowing his name, or what he intends to do?
He says they'll get there through trial and error and the starry darkness of her tail flicks, agitated, thoughtful. She should be afraid, she knows it, and some part of her is, because what is a crack across the sky except for something terrible? Has anything good ever come out of fractures that should not be? Rifts in the sky, in the earth, in the soul? But it beckons her like a crooked, toothy, smile, a crocodile grin, and all she wants is to see what's on the other side. Shipka is afraid, and the fear peels away at her heart, but she is also headstrong and naive, too, and she meets his challenge with a set jaw and eyes full of moonlight.
How do you prepare for a journey like this? Does it happen in a blink, or will they fly? Is there something she should do? A thunderstorm of questions pours down on her. And then she smiles, the seriousness has gone, though some memory of worry remains in the slant of her ear and the way her breath trembles in freckled nostrils. Even the wrongness of the broken sky is a chance to walk among the stars. Sparkling silver light leaps up around her and Shipka springs nimbly onto it in a shower of bright sparks that fall around the stallion like snow.
"I guess we should get started."
@[Ten]