.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
06-24-2016, 11:35 AM
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
Curiosity was a powerful and damning thing. He had so easily written off Alysanne as a character simply on the sidelines in his life, a stable constant, impersonal, distant, not allowing her to become a part of his day-to-day life. And he didn't even know why anymore—aside from being a tad overbearing towards Naerys (then again, that was his default assumption of all parents who actually gave a fuck about their kids), had she ever done anything to warrant it..? She had just been there, ordinary, plain, not quite as exotic or intriguing as some others, and besides, when he had first returned to the Edge his thoughts had been full of another black-and-white mare.
And as far as overbearing mothers went, she hadn't really told him off for hanging around with Naerys, had she? Not like Ophelia, who had explicitly said that if he ever did anything untoward or harmful towards Roskuld she'd come after him.
But now, here, with the wind blowing around him and the evening sun blazing in the sea, it was like someone removed a blindfold and handed him a sign saying "Alysanne is a real person too". And how many others in the herd had he sidelined in the same fashion? Was there a difference between simply not seeking them out, and just .. not finding them interesting enough to seek out?
How much would he have missed Alysanne's presence, if she had just disappeared from the herd? Personally, not so much—but as a cornerstone of the herd, and the Doctors? Definitely.
“Because I’m a doctor, because you are my daughter’s friend, because you’re a herd-mate...”
It almost made him feel guilty, now that she had sought him out—whether it was on a whim because she had seen him, or something more deliberate—and spoke to him. (Now that he had seen her scars.) “Because that’s who I am.”
He wished he could say something, anything, and finish it with that sentence: because that's who I am.
But he couldn't.
Because he didn't know who he was.
So his gaze traveled from the gentle green of her eyes back to the sea and the sun, tail flicking once more. It always surprised him how straight the horizon was where the sky met the ocean.
He wanted to say something—anything. To give her a reason not to jump after him (because he wasn't worth it), because he would be fine on his own. To let her know there was never any reason to risk herself for him, because he would be fine. He didn't have any choice but to be fine.
Yet, he said nothing. The words were like gravel in his mouth, the truth a rock he couldn't spit out—I am immortal, Alysanne.
She went on, without prompting. Her voice turned less content, but without knowing her, he hesitated to call it bitter. (If it had been him, it would've been.) And these were just like her scars, hidden, out of sight, only shown because they tumbled out of her mouth. "You have wings, yet you do not fly," was all he said for a moment, his voice carefully neutral, but it was there, in the small things—in the faint disappointment ghosting along the words, the sadness glinting in his eyes.
He didn't even have wings, and here she was, wide feathered appendages and all, and she didn't use them.
What the fuck.
The world was a cruel place.
“I’m the fool who cares enough about all she meets that she’d not see them come to any harm under her watch.” He almost began to suspect she was purging something—an old wound, hot and swollen with this touch of venom, the scab coming off when she finally began to scratch it. His ears moved, and then his head, until he was looking straight at her. Had she planned this, or had the words merely started to tumble out? "Alysanne," he said, softly, "you are not a fool." What else could he say? She was brave enough to risk herself to save another, brave enough to follow her call, but maybe—maybe not brave enough to give it her everything. He didn't know what she was questing for, or who gave it to her, but somewhere, it seemed compassion and morals locked her mind from thinking one step ahead.
"What is your quest?"
[ @Alysanne ]
And as far as overbearing mothers went, she hadn't really told him off for hanging around with Naerys, had she? Not like Ophelia, who had explicitly said that if he ever did anything untoward or harmful towards Roskuld she'd come after him.
But now, here, with the wind blowing around him and the evening sun blazing in the sea, it was like someone removed a blindfold and handed him a sign saying "Alysanne is a real person too". And how many others in the herd had he sidelined in the same fashion? Was there a difference between simply not seeking them out, and just .. not finding them interesting enough to seek out?
How much would he have missed Alysanne's presence, if she had just disappeared from the herd? Personally, not so much—but as a cornerstone of the herd, and the Doctors? Definitely.
“Because I’m a doctor, because you are my daughter’s friend, because you’re a herd-mate...”
It almost made him feel guilty, now that she had sought him out—whether it was on a whim because she had seen him, or something more deliberate—and spoke to him. (Now that he had seen her scars.) “Because that’s who I am.”
He wished he could say something, anything, and finish it with that sentence: because that's who I am.
But he couldn't.
Because he didn't know who he was.
So his gaze traveled from the gentle green of her eyes back to the sea and the sun, tail flicking once more. It always surprised him how straight the horizon was where the sky met the ocean.
He wanted to say something—anything. To give her a reason not to jump after him (
Yet, he said nothing. The words were like gravel in his mouth, the truth a rock he couldn't spit out—I am immortal, Alysanne.
She went on, without prompting. Her voice turned less content, but without knowing her, he hesitated to call it bitter. (If it had been him, it would've been.) And these were just like her scars, hidden, out of sight, only shown because they tumbled out of her mouth. "You have wings, yet you do not fly," was all he said for a moment, his voice carefully neutral, but it was there, in the small things—in the faint disappointment ghosting along the words, the sadness glinting in his eyes.
He didn't even have wings, and here she was, wide feathered appendages and all, and she didn't use them.
What the fuck.
The world was a cruel place.
“I’m the fool who cares enough about all she meets that she’d not see them come to any harm under her watch.” He almost began to suspect she was purging something—an old wound, hot and swollen with this touch of venom, the scab coming off when she finally began to scratch it. His ears moved, and then his head, until he was looking straight at her. Had she planned this, or had the words merely started to tumble out? "Alysanne," he said, softly, "you are not a fool." What else could he say? She was brave enough to risk herself to save another, brave enough to follow her call, but maybe—maybe not brave enough to give it her everything. He didn't know what she was questing for, or who gave it to her, but somewhere, it seemed compassion and morals locked her mind from thinking one step ahead.
"What is your quest?"
[ @Alysanne ]
Mauja
the white queen
