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11-16-2016, 04:57 PM
For Sohalia, some days were better than others. It had been nearly two seasons since Gaucho’s passing, and most of the time the ivory dove managed to go about her day-to-day activities without the ache in her chest being too much to bear. She had goals, ideas, desires, and if anything, they had been intensified by the memory of all she had not done while her mate (she felt more sure of his position in her life now that he was gone than she had throughout all the years in which he’d been alive) was still in his fiery position upon the sands. After all, she reasoned, the WildFire would not have wanted her passion to stop burning just because his flames had been snuffed out. But this was not one of those days. Sohalia couldn’t quite put her hoof on it, but for some reason this morning had brought a whiff of his scent on the wind. The absent sound of his whisper had caressed her ear, and she had known that she would be useless for the rest of the day. Guilt and pain and anger overwhelmed her on days like this, and she would not subject anyone else to her poor mood. Instead, she wandered out across the sands to stand beside the ocean, and for the first time in weeks she longed to slip into the spirit world to see if, by some miracle, her WildFire was there waiting for her. He hadn’t been, so far, and in the days after his death she had found herself checking often, terrified simultaneously of seeing him and not seeing him. As time wore on and still he did not appear, the pale lady had all but given up hope of offering her apology, of leaning into even his ghostly embrace and hearing him murmur that it would be alright. And so as she reached for the magic that flowed in her veins, she truly did not expect that anyone would be waiting for her on the other side, but she knew that she had to try. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and stepped into the spirit world. "Talk talk talk." @Odd |
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