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08-30-2016, 04:31 PM
Zyanya
I'm sorry.
It is not a weak voice that calls from behind her, certainly. The words are thick with emotion, maybe regret, as they carry on the heavy summer wind. Zyanya makes no pause, does not stop her retreat at them. The fierce turmoil boiling under her skin, the insult of her and her new home, fueled a fire than drove her limbs forward. Ears do swivel back in the direction of former company, capturing the following words despite the obvious intent to leave regardless of what is said.
The resolve built in her heart softens, then melts completely. Halting after the next set of words reach first her ears, then her heart, then her soul, Zyanya's small face turns to look toward the girl. Looking upon her with suspicion, a rare occurence for the mare, the pretty face of the bay mare twisted as if by some inner struggle with herself. The air around Essetia was sullen, not just after the verbal lashing toward Zyanya, but before, as though her heart lay heavy in her chest, buried under grief or something darker.
The thought of leaving her alone stabbed painfully in her heart, making the air in Zyanya's lungs acrid. "I love my home," the girl says, very straightforward and honest toward the girl. Her lavender eyes are soft, despite the strange, unfamiliar strength in her voice. Normally, the meek porcelain doll would never speak so boldly to her company. The strength originates not from herself, but the hearts and souls of those she had met. "I do not expect you to agree, but you musn't speak ill of my beloved land."
A sigh escapes her delicate lips, the girl looking toward the grasses with regret, wishing she knew how to assuage the hurt her people had caused for Essetia. She could never understand, never believe, in the evils the Aurora Basin once housed. She only knew of the brave, warm souls which crowded the mountain peaks now. The bright smile of Lena as she offered a song to a weary soul, the worried face of Johnny as he attempted to staunch Albrecht's bleeding shoulder. The glint of gold flickering in her minds eye from Rexanna's jewelry as she extended a warm welcome despite Zyanya's uselessness.
Meekly, a smile which is pained and difficult to produce, offers reparation. Despite not knowing Essetia well, something about the kind gesture of placing Romul from her sight made Zyanya want to believe in the girl's soul. She wanted to have this girl as a friend, unable to quite explain why. "It is the only place I have left."
""
ooc -- Sorry for the very long wait. I'm trying to get everything caught up, and this one slipped past my attention longer than it should have!
It is not a weak voice that calls from behind her, certainly. The words are thick with emotion, maybe regret, as they carry on the heavy summer wind. Zyanya makes no pause, does not stop her retreat at them. The fierce turmoil boiling under her skin, the insult of her and her new home, fueled a fire than drove her limbs forward. Ears do swivel back in the direction of former company, capturing the following words despite the obvious intent to leave regardless of what is said.
The resolve built in her heart softens, then melts completely. Halting after the next set of words reach first her ears, then her heart, then her soul, Zyanya's small face turns to look toward the girl. Looking upon her with suspicion, a rare occurence for the mare, the pretty face of the bay mare twisted as if by some inner struggle with herself. The air around Essetia was sullen, not just after the verbal lashing toward Zyanya, but before, as though her heart lay heavy in her chest, buried under grief or something darker.
The thought of leaving her alone stabbed painfully in her heart, making the air in Zyanya's lungs acrid. "I love my home," the girl says, very straightforward and honest toward the girl. Her lavender eyes are soft, despite the strange, unfamiliar strength in her voice. Normally, the meek porcelain doll would never speak so boldly to her company. The strength originates not from herself, but the hearts and souls of those she had met. "I do not expect you to agree, but you musn't speak ill of my beloved land."
A sigh escapes her delicate lips, the girl looking toward the grasses with regret, wishing she knew how to assuage the hurt her people had caused for Essetia. She could never understand, never believe, in the evils the Aurora Basin once housed. She only knew of the brave, warm souls which crowded the mountain peaks now. The bright smile of Lena as she offered a song to a weary soul, the worried face of Johnny as he attempted to staunch Albrecht's bleeding shoulder. The glint of gold flickering in her minds eye from Rexanna's jewelry as she extended a warm welcome despite Zyanya's uselessness.
Meekly, a smile which is pained and difficult to produce, offers reparation. Despite not knowing Essetia well, something about the kind gesture of placing Romul from her sight made Zyanya want to believe in the girl's soul. She wanted to have this girl as a friend, unable to quite explain why. "It is the only place I have left."
""
ooc -- Sorry for the very long wait. I'm trying to get everything caught up, and this one slipped past my attention longer than it should have!
YOU ARE THE BLUEST LIGHT.
@Essetia
even if you're lost you can't lose the love because
it's in your heart
Magic & Force allowed, barring permanent changes or death.
