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I’d spent a few days here in the forest surrounding the rotunda, mostly wandering aimlessly trying to decide if I wanted to travel directly north, to the last known whereabouts of my dad, or even further north, to Erebos. While I certainly felt less angst than I initially had about these endeavors when first arriving (mostly due to Demothi’s good sense), I still wasn’t exactly looking forward to either of them – for one, dad would likely be cross, and I also didn’t know if my life long friend would be as jovial about this reunion as he had been our last. And, while I did think sometimes of Aithniel and the desert which I’d avoided on my excursions westward, I kept her out of my thoughts as much as possible. I’m not sure why. I think it was mostly that I didn’t want to have to tell her I was sorry, and I also didn’t want to be associated with her anymore – not if she’d been hanging out with those birds in the sand, filling her head with their lies about the origins of her blood. Even more convoluting was the presence of her father, the very nature of her father a force that my knowledge would be hard pressed to combat. I’d spent to long lost, and she was the cost I would pay. It did not mean I would think about her, not unless she fell out of the sky, or found herself directly in my path, as Glacia did now. Glacia, daughter of Sialia, a face that had played in the green fields and snowy glens of my youth, and so I am again transported back to a mental frame of being innocent, and full of hope not yet tarnished by truth. I see the dark pelted mare, her white speckled coat colored rainbow by the glass above, and I hear the laughter of Aithniel, or the horrid silence of her stillness while mother told tales of her ancestor’s filth. I feel Erebos’ shoulder against mine and cannot help but smile, the cold wind of the mountains stilling the fading green smell of this forest. But something is wrong about her, not just that she’s older – I’ve already met her again, in these full sized bodies of ours – and it sends the warm feelings that are ushered in with memory away with something that, at first, anyway, grips at me so tightly that all I do is stop and stare, trying to piece together what is so different about her. "Gave it up already, Glacia?" I ask her from my distance with a jester’s smirk, the taunt arriving with the realization that she’s much wider than she used to be. Stirring beneath me, my golden hooves flash in the light as I cross the golden grasses that span between the tree line and the strange stone building, pausing so that I have to look up into the rotunda at her, still grinning - until I notice she smells like mist, not snow, my smile falling into a more serious expression that wonders just what is in her fat gut. |
the Rift
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[PRIVATE] Red phones and leather wallets
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| Messages In This Thread |
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Red phones and leather wallets - by Glacia - 02-08-2016, 02:06 PM
RE: Red phones and leather wallets - by Rikyn - 02-08-2016, 07:26 PM
RE: Red phones and leather wallets - by Glacia - 02-09-2016, 07:59 PM
RE: Red phones and leather wallets - by Rikyn - 02-10-2016, 11:26 AM
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