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    Aela -- Year 216


    "So she smiles prettily and steals away when she can. Feels the brutal pounding of others around her with a savagery that she has never comprehended—their emotions so vast, their hearts so wicked. It warps her more than she was already warped. It presses a thumbprint of cruelty into her darkness, shaping her into a thing of shadow, a thing of longing, a thing carved from the darkness between every breath." --Baptiste, written by Laura

    [private]  Through thick and thin
    I can see through you, see your true colors
    Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
    Even when he had also been a lost child, he had avoided this place. Yet he comes now. Why?

    Why indeed.

    Aela had found a powerful child here and after taking Sickle from Tephra, he realizes the wisdom in plucking unwanted children from places that don’t cherish them. The Den was the easiest place to take them from with rarely any resistance from its caretakers. There is also something darker that brings him here, tied to the Fae blood that runs in his veins. Changeling foals, those that were stolen and raised by faerie. Why shouldn’t he take them if nobody else wants them? Look at what he had become, worthless thing that he had started out as. Just like them.

    And if he can gift his son with a sister, a companion like the one that death had taken from him, he would happily do so.

    She is not replaceable, the dead girl with blood red eyes, but perhaps another might ease the pain. Might help set things right and ease that guilt that weighs so heavily in his chest.

    There aren’t many here and with a quick question to the resident fairy, he is pointed in the direction to where the abandoned filly lays. She is the color of sunsets and smells of apple blossoms and he looks down at where she has crumpled into herself with a flash of his red eyes, the rest of his gilded face smooth and unreadable. “Your name, child.” He finally says after a few minutes of considering her. More of a demand than a question.


    For some reason it won't let me reply to your original thread? I have no idea @leuce
    [Image: Obscene-Pixel.png]
    The child hugs her wings tight against her sides, even as the faeries try to coax her out. She keeps her nose touched to the crook of her knee, her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

    Her mother had hardly touched her in the hours after her birth. Her mother had given her absolutely no indication that she’d wanted the child and there had been precious little warmth in the way she’d received her, but the child believes she’ll come back. Aches for her to come back.

    The faeries flit and tug at the scruff of her mane but she stubbornly refuses to lift her head, open her eyes, accept her situation for what it is. Her mother is gone and she is not coming back. Her mother had never wanted her in the first place. 

    This voice is different, realer somehow than the quiet noises the faeries made as they’d tried to convince her to open her eyes. She clamps her wings even tighter against her side, hesitating before cracking open one eye, catching a hazy glimpse of the stallion’s legs. Her breath hitches and she closes the eye up again, swallowing the fear that swells in her throat before she tries to summon the courage required to open both eyes and lift her head.

    He had not asked nicely. In fact, he had not asked at all. She draws in a staggered breath as the sun slips over the edge of the horizon and the darkness begins to deepen. Still, she reflects the sunset for what it had been.

    Her mother had not given her a name, but she does not know how to admit that, so she says, “Leuce.” Something she had heard a faerie whisper as it had tugged at an apple blossom stuck in the tuft of her forelock. 

    Are you here to take me back to my mother?” she asks, her throat tight with longing.
    i feel the sun coming up, rising from the east
    and i see the empire falling to her knees
    and i lost the line between her and me

    @ Obscene i broke the board? no surprise there
    I can see through you, see your true colors
    Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
    He watches the fairies as they pull on small strands of hair, as they poke and prod her. It dawns on him that this is the first time in a long time that he has seen one. It had been years since they had vanished from the wildflowers and the meadow haunts, years since they had left him after he had become Fae himself. There is a strange nostalgia in seeing the way they try to annoy the girl as if that will pull her out of the numb stupor she has fallen under.

    Eventually, she does look at him though. He is intrigued by her unique coloring and when he finds the strange pink of her eyes, his indifference fades slightly. He is quiet for a moment as her name slips free from quivering lips. When a fairy tries to remove another tangled blossom, he shakes his head slightly and steps closer to her. If things went according to plan today, Leuce would have an assortment of flowers caught in her mane as most of them did in the wildflower lands.

    The question the girl asks him is strained and he exhales slowly, recognizing that longing in her voice. “No.” Is all he says although his tone is not as gruff as it had been before. She is a scared and fragile thing but there is potential and that is enough for him. “Your mother is gone.” He finally says quietly and it is true enough. It didn’t matter if the foals mother was alive or dead, if the girl's presence here was by her parents choice or not. She was here now, alone and rejected. “But I can give you a new family. You will be wanted, Leuce.”

    @leuce well done  Tongue
    [Image: Obscene-Pixel.png]

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