"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
She looks at him a little closer, studying his smile and his eyes and the angles of his midnight face. It’s hard to tell if the smile is something kind or something mocking, or if it is something altogether different, but she feels sure it is not malicious. Or maybe just certain that someone so beautiful would not be capable of cruelty. Still, there is a certain warmth she cannot find when she searches his eyes, and she finds herself wishing she could still hear the nature of his thoughts. That had disappeared with the day, though.
His question quiets her and for a moment she looks away again, lifting her delicate face to that corona of light hanging in the empty sky. And then, though it takes a moment to decide to open up again, she says, “This dark is different somehow. It isn’t like night, which is full of stars and a forever sky. This dark is killing the sun, and I have the sun inside me.” She still doesn’t look at him, is busy fighting that swell of frustration that still felt so unfamiliar every time it tapped her shoulder and said hello. It feels as strangling as the dark and she wants so badly to be rid of it.
She is not the dark, she will not be poisoned by it.
Yet even now it has her by the throat.
His optimism surprises her, his faith that all will be well. She wonders if she should be more like him, more trusting, but it is hard to have faith in something that’s been allowed to be broken for so long. Still, she isn’t here to crush his hopes with her many fears, so she merely smiles, something small and quiet but entirely genuine, and glances back at his face. “Yeah, every type.” She only hopes he’s right.
aureline
dear wilderness, be at your best
her armor is thin as the fabric of her dress
Alright, so she may bring up some good points about this dark not being the best. He hadn’t really thought about how there weren’t any stars and couldn’t, at this moment, remember if he had even noticed (though he does look up now just to check). But the whole killing the sun and her having the sun inside her part did not sound good. So he extra hoped that the sun would be back soon because what she said did not sound like it was going to end well.
The small smile that Aureline gives after his optimistic speech feels like agreement and he doesn’t think anything more about it.
So he changes the subject, sort of. Laurelin’s not very good at picking up on whether or not someone wants to not talk about something - he pretty much figures if it’s spoken outloud, or out in the open, or just flitting through his mind, it’s fair game for conversation. Which is a long way to say that for once, the subject he chooses isn’t about himself (even though that is the subject he is an expert in and sounds the smartest when talking about).
His dark head tilts to the side when he looks at her, those gold-striped ears flicked towards her. “What’s it like to have the sun inside you? Well like... normally. Not right now.” Because he was paying attention enough to catch on that having the sun inside her right now wasn't the best.
His question surprises her and for a moment those brown eyes stumble across his face again, searching for any hint of a reflection as to the mood inside his chest. But she thinks he is like oceans too vast to know the depths of, like skies that hide stars and planets beyond their aching blues. There is more, she thinks, but it is not for her to see.
“What’s it like to not have the sun inside you?” She counters, those quiet eyes finally falling still on that too-beautiful face. But her mouth finds a smile and it slips across her lips like a sliver of sunshine as she studies that gentle way his head tilts with the weight of his curiosity. “Normally it’s the best.” She says, and her smile grows for a moment, but fades with the wistfulness that enters her eyes and dims them even darker. “Sometimes it seems like I can actually feel it up there in the sky. Like, the echo of it. It wakes me in the morning and leaves me at night, but there is always some part of it burning steadily away inside me. An ember left behind to keep me safe.”
She laughs then because she knows this is the talk of children and daydreams, of stories she should have grown out of. But it all comes from the same kernel of belief nestled inside her chest. “I hope it comes back and I can see you again, because I think that would make it easier to understand.” The glowing, the radiant heat from her skin. The molten ring of her irises. It had endured for a short while, but then the life of it had guttered beneath the weight of this false-dark, this absence of light.
There is a moment where she falls quiet again, buried under some weight he will not be able to understand. Her brow knits tight and the smile fades until the corners of her mouth are tipped down with the heaviness of her hurt. She blinks, blinks again, and then when she is finally able to claw her way out of the quiet she gently tosses the long waves of her dark forelock away from her face. “There might still be a hint of it in my eyes.” She says, whispers as she leans in a little closer and holds still. “They used to be every shade of burning gold and copper, the darkest shades like garnet. Last I looked there was only a small sliver of it left, like a shadow at the edge of the pupil. I haven’t looked recently though.” It is gone now, of course, she didn't really need to have looked to know that the last of it had fled her weeks ago. All he would see now is the warm honeyed shade of brown, just like her mother.
aureline
dear wilderness, be at your best
her armor is thin as the fabric of her dress
Laurelin is thinking about her question, seriously considering what it felt like to not have the sun inside of him. He doesn’t realize she had been likely just asking rhetorically, he just assumes that she’d like to know what it was like to be who he as (and it was pretty great). But then she replies to his question and his attention withdraws from himself and focuses on her, because she’s saying some pretty cool stuff that actually is interesting even though it’s not about him.
His bright eyes have some of the same wistfulness as hers as he listens, wondering if what she describes feels anything like the warmth he radiates. He likes to think so, since she makes it sound so nice.
Laurelin’s grin grows bright when she shares her hope and he is quick to respond to that - “Oh, it’ll come back and we’ll see each other again when it does, that's gotta happen.” He is sure of it now - because he wants to see what it’s like to be friends with someone with the sun inside of her. And the big sun is going to cooperate and make this happen for the both of them. Even though he looks better at night - he still looks pretty great in the daylight too so it won’t be so bad.
He’s off in his own thoughts again when she falls quiet - not noticing that the corners of her mouth have tipped down. He would have spoken some random thought to fill the silence eventually… probably. But for now he is content to let his thoughts drift wherever they will go until she speaks again.
In her eyes! Laurelin leans in too, his vibrant eyes dancing between hers, looking for what she’s describing. He’s a little disappointed to discover that there is no burning silver in her eyes, though they are a very agreeable shade of brown anyway. Especially when he can see a little bit of his blue glow reflected back at him. Very agreeable. “It’s gone now.” He tells her, and at least has the decency to have sympathy in his voice. “But don’t worry, it’ll come back. And then I’ll be able to see it.” Laurelin's grin returns, illuminated by the blue glow of his coat, and his voice is absolutely brimming with certainty. “Just you wait.”
The longer she stands here with him in the everdark, the more at ease she feels. It is as though his calm is something contagious, and when his grin grows bright again, she cannot help but to reflect that light back at him. “I would like that very much.” She says, and her eyes lose some of the dull sorrow when the smile-warmth reaches them. “How are you so sure of everything? Of the sun, and that we’ll see each other again.” There is nothing cynical in the sound of her quiet voice, just an earnest kind of gentle wonder as she lets the ripples of his mood lap against her spirit.
It is good that he is so immune to her sorrows, to the quiet moments that haunt her. It is even better that he doesn’t hold them against her. When she speaks again and he leans in, there is a moment where his closeness sends a shiver of surprise racing up along the curve of her spine. Her wings lift slightly, the feathers a whisper of browns and soft tawny shades, of dark and pale and everything in between. She inhales sharply, buries that thing that sounds like a gasp back down somewhere deep inside her chest. It is easier to do so when that faint disappointment registers in his cerulean gaze and she knows there is nothing left of the sun burning inside her.
What if it never came back?
But he doesn’t let her worry long, and when he speaks she is grateful for that note of sympathy in his voice, grateful for the ferocity of his faith. More than grateful for the grin that slips back across that beautiful blue mouth again. She might’ve reached out to touch his cheek, to feel the warmth of that gem-bright blue. But something holds her quiet. “I won’t worry.” She promises, and though her eyes are dark and flat, the warmth of the color seems even warmer in the light of him. “I can’t wait to show you.”
For just the briefest moment her eyes wander over his face again, and she knows she is memorizing this specific shade of blue, the way his sky blue eyes alight when that grin slips over his mouth. She is counting his sparks as they leap from his skin, though they are much like stars in the way they are impossible to keep track of. “The dark may not suit me,” she tells him, returning her eyes to his again, “but it certainly suits you.” The compliment is easy and genuine, an observation she is sure he must already be aware of. You can’t be that perfect and not know it. “You know, you never did tell me what it’s like to be you.” And her smile is softer now, crinkling at the corners of eyes made gentle by the company of her newest friend.
aureline
dear wilderness, be at your best
her armor is thin as the fabric of her dress
How is he so sure? Well the truth of it is, because Laurelin doesn’t have very much going on inside of his head so it’s rather easy to be sure of things when there’s nothing for any worries to stick to. But he is also not self-aware enough to know that’s the reason why he’s so sure. So he just tells Aureline, his eyes lit up with a dazzling smile “Because I want both of those things to happen, so they’re going to.”
And for him - it was as simple as that.
When she compliments him, he shakes his mane and sends some more sparks up into the dark air - delighted, as always, to be appreciated. He did, in fact, know how perfect he was but it was nice to hear it confirmed by someone else. Especially a friend (though he didn’t mind getting compliments from strangers either).
He hadn’t thought she was serious when she was asking him what it was like not to have the sun inside of him, but she asks again and with that soft smile - how can he not take the moment to talk about himself?
“It’s not as interesting as having the sun inside me, I’m sure.” Though Laurelin doesn’t do self-deprecation well so maybe this doesn’t come off as kind as he intends it. But it brightens his smile for a moment before he continues - trying to think of a way to tell her what it was like being him. “It’s not bad though. I’m always warm - even in the coldest winter thanks to whatever makes me glow and do the whole sparky thing. I was raised by a pretty great mom - have some pretty great friends.” And here he reaches out to nudge her gently and his eyes dance a little more. He’s never tried to think about this before and he feels like he’s not doing a very good job. Which is a new feeling for him.
So Laurelin just shrugs, another new feeling - being at a loss for words.
