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 "Perhaps he wanted to slow dance, and did not know how to ask you." I would like to say my voice precedes my body; it does not. There is a more than minimal chance the filly sees me before I speak. From the edge of the clearing I watch, entranced, as the child twirls and danced, her youthful abandon and un-self-conscious affect enviable. Garbed in gold and cream, like me, the child nonetheless seems at home in a way I never have- not here, not since I was the filly's age. The Edge has not embraced me into its misty arms; it rejects me, marking me as outlier, as other, and I comply with this judgment by standing apart. Even in autumn, when the trees are garbed in fire and gold, I am a bright brand on the horizon, woefully incapable of anything resembling camouflage. This is alright. Natraj has a plan, you see, and like many of his plans, it involves me making a fool of myself as I attempt to socialize, exposing myself to a stranger and praying they look upon me with mercy, if nothing else. I protest this plan. It's foolish, I tell him, And I don't want to meet the filly. This is a lie- I do want to meet the girl who dances in the woods, her voice and body a flash of memory, a ghost of youth and cousins and happier times. I want to tell her about other nymphs, other flames that flickered once within these woods. I want to be her, to be her youth and merriment, her innocence and insolence. I yearn for her, for the child who was left behind in the dark. Where did that girl go? Natraj knows I feel this way; he feels no guilt disregarding my protests, which is not unusual for my brother. I roll my eyes as he bounds away, his small dark body far stealthier than mine, his flame-tipped tails waving eagerly in his wake. With a sigh, I stride forward, my voice an alto chord on the cool autumn air, my expression something I pray resembles kindness, mirth. A smile flickers at the edge of my lips, broadening as I catch a glimpse of tails darting toward the offending branch. Perhaps, if the girl continues to look at me instead of the tree, my brother's marvelous plan will come to fruition after all. - Tandavi - I'll light a fire in your new shoes - look out that your soles don't burn to the floor |
Image Credits
accidentally posted this too soon so it's awkward and short xD OH WELL
@Maude do you want to be tagged? <3
o. pixel pony credit to tamme
o. permission granted to use force and magic on Tavi
o. only tag me in opening posts, please!
