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Patron Moon Goddess.
The answer is nearly absurd. What purpose did Gods have in the realm of mortals? Why interfere, dabble with mortals who are altogether cursed by their limitations and blessed by the finite return of body and soul…? Gods were in fairytales, they were in epics and grand stories. Magic was incredible, truly, but the girl was skeptical of the existence of such beings. Having not been directly affected by such creatures, other than the supposed interventions of the Moon God’s gifts. In any case, it boiled down to trust. Could Ru trust Lyanna to tell the truth? Could she trust in their character?
A dark, and brief curl of her lips reminds her of ulterior motives, false truths and half-lies. That there is no telling who the mare really is – first impressions, as it were now, appeared fickle. A murky business; the thought pulls in the youth’s brief movement of enthusiasm to find caution in the companion beside her.
It seems appropriate as the older mare provides her with a word of discretion. Imparting a restrictive sense to the girl’s adventures. She stops her movement, and settles a quiet gaze upon the pegasi. A critical appraisal that searches the opposing eyes closely. The adventurer is suddenly struck with a feeling of rejection – for she knows that she will not find a home in the security of a herd. Without the need, or the assurance, or the vulnerabilities provided in such gatherings; she does not want to bear the loneliness felt so plainly amongst its inhabitants.
A defeated sigh leaves her lips. Soft, a minor, unnoticeable action that drifts quietly from the subtle shift of lungs. Ru moves her eyes further into the unknown. Yearning to see and witness what was clearly being removed from her. The mists draw out as the day has clearly begun, dissolving the dragon’s breath – unveiling the obscure. The glass border sparkles, sharp and steely in the distance.
“Do you have a home?”
The youth grunts in mild amusement. It’s a simple question, shouldn’t bother the young one, but it does. Crawls underneath her skin, and dares her to tighten her face, clench her jaws – to bear the pangs of longing clear and raw. Though Ru is learning to shield these awful realizations. To dull the force, in the hopes they would lessen their sting.
With a quiet inhale, she shook her head rather plainly. Perhaps not today then. And she let out her breath keeping her eyes on the glass wall. Which may have easily been mistaken for one’s longing to belong. It was filled with the substance of heavy thought, or rather, the emotions that twisted deep within. Eager, restless to escape the cage they’d been placed in.
The only reassurance the girl could afford was the thought that she would find one yet. A home of her own design.
And somehow that was satisfying, in a hollow, wishy-washy kind of way. Concerning unplanned and lofty dreaming, cultivating small seeds of hope.
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