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The world around her was in motion. Upwards or downwards, she couldn't tell in the darkness of her unknowing mind. For all details were gone. All details... Except those two individuals that seemed to be opposites – but then also almost the same – in her tired eyes. What could she tell them; what would they want to hear? They were all just silent, portraying an awkward bunch of fools standing stupidly at a time most slept. Except those who she had just called troubled.
Purposeless mists were slowly thinning out while valueless time ticked away.
Did that mean they were all, then, troubled? Them: A group of silent care-seeking twits that needed physical treatment? Then wouldn't this be the perfect time to start a talking-group – Would Rei even still want to talk to her after she had ignored her mostly and spat out bruising words – words that had made her one of the Silent? In jest. She had spoken in jest. No. Fun? Fun – playfulness, did not exist, here, in this place surrounded by fireflies; not right now. Because nothing hilarious could spin from a maze-trapped suppose-to-be guardian angel and a ice-prince that was not even divine. Apparently all that could come from them was silence.
...But not from her.
"Is everything okay?"
The words scratched over the lull's surface once more, but more gentle now, a delicate, careful hesitance to her voice. Something so angelic, sweet and pure – which she herself would never be able to reach or become. Maybe Rei was the one divine here. Maybe Rei was the only one worthy of sitting between the fireflies to see the beauty of the night, and question its purpose. Maybe Maren should just go away, for her doubt and uncertainty were only left with the purpose of staining those pure marble whites with their shadowed sins.
Then everything that had been falling into a blur just... got weirder, reflecting in her brain as particles that were glimmering pieces of dust and shattered glass. So maybe she was already gone beyond repair, for everything in her insides grew colder and colder with guilt as her pinching eyes glared at Rei's crawling, as if she would just... rather not be here. Alas, so Rei was no angel. And the white-dotted prince was no holy prophet - No archangel, either. And she...? She was just Maren; wickedly tainted by that what she failed to understand and being crushed under its pressure. She was wounded, a shattered being held together by a body that felt numbed.
Maren swallowed, pupils growing bigger as her golden eyes lay on the mare. Is everything okay, the not-an-angel asked. Is everything okay?
Ah... Such a dangerous question.
Having finally processed the words, something deep inside her just wanted to laugh, because this kind of irony was totally her ally of humor...– But then she remembered that there was no fun here. Not now, not this night. Not with three troubled musketeers huddled together, awkwardly. Tonight there was only coldness creeping over her skin and embracing her muscles as she felt that horrible horrible guilt; the sword that hang silently shimmering from her chest, waiting to be pulled out. Because the venom of doubt that had sweat from the blade had turned her thoughts of strength and courage to foam.
So what could she do? Burst into song? Tell... No – Sing to Rei that everything was alright; Humming how the flowers still bloomed in color and that the world was still so beautifully detailed and-not-a-blur and that the clouds still had their funny forms and figures – And that everything would continue to be alright in the forever eternity that would follow after today. She would sing it with a smile on her flirting face on a happy rhythm that would be composed and played by the forest and would turn the songs of birds to shame.
And then what? It would just be another lie. As it was she would be, after all, lying and lying and lying to her as a Disciple for so many more times. This. This was just one lonely question. One question seeking truth – like they all did. And the tigermare simply couldn't bare to not save that one lonely truth from her Mount Everest of Lies; a mountain that was a veil, already covering the world with its darkness. And it would only continue on to swallow all purity that was left in it.
So not now, not yet. In the embrace of the night she knew how easy it was to just give her this one simple truth, and let it wash over her cold skin. So the tigermare glanced at Rei, with eyes of chaos and unknowing feeling herself fall away further and further between the roots. Somewhere deep she knew that she would need someone to either pull her back up into the light, or someone to catch her when she would fall down into that pit of darkness.
Thus far the best thing about this night was the silence of those damned fireflies. And yet it continued to be broken. She knew that Rei deserved nothing else than the truth. But truths were just as much taints as lies. Just as much a bother as lies where, and just as heavy pressing on a mind. So she immediately regretted it when she felt the air around her growing thick and heavy and her neck grow warm and cold with transpiration. Was everything okay?
"No", she said, a rasp marking the voice of a troubled mortal. No.
Biting emotions and prickling thorns of dying roses colored her mind black, blue and red as the tigermare lay there under that oak-tree surrounded by fireflies. She swallowed a chunk of air awkwardly as her wings folded themselves around her cheeks, easing her mental pain. She was looking at Rei, wondering in awe what the mare would do now, now that she had that information; that heavy shitload that that one idiotic word could barf. She had not wanted to put it on her, but she had, nevertheless, because the greater good – or something.
No, I am just that selfish.
Embraced by guilt and that rare care she felt for the dotted mare, she had almost forgotten about the King in the mist. But perhaps the stallion did not mind being forgotten. For he had that frozen lake of ice that covered him and made him be one of the Silent, made him be one of the Troubled, too – And from own experience she thought that the Troubled did not like to be troubled, at all, really.
Still, Maren could not help but feel the sudden need… The sudden wish to all huddle together in a nice, cozy hug. For maybe... Maybe that was all that those damned troubled needed: The charade of warmth and that all would be alright – or at least for tonight.
But she wouldn't dare ask. Wouldn't dare let her lips form the word hug, even though she craved for one so badly, as she felt -helpless and stupid and silly and worthless- instead.
@[Rei], @[Mauja] || Notes: lots and lots of rambling :\ || Wordcount: 1179 || "talking" ||
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