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11-28-2016, 11:28 AM
Giggling at her father’s affections, and pressing her head into his gestures of love, the child might someday tell him of moments like these being part of the reason she bothered to be smart at all. She might not have tried so hard to do things the right way if the rewards didn’t feel so good, after all! Besides, the less time her daddy had to spend getting everything ready, the more time they could spend together, leisurely lounging beside the fire. The pop and crackle of the tinder swiftly consumed by the flames fills the air, and she stares with great interest at the pretty dancing of the dangerous heat source. Blue, bluer than the ocean or the sky, creates a round arc at the base of each orange flicker, their shapes erratic and wild, reminiscent, to Maude, anyway, of long manes tousled in the peculiar, vertical wind. She, too, looks from those elegant streams of flame to her father as he speaks, his red coat illuminated by the equally ruddy light of the fire, so that he looks like molten copper given life, his green eyes hauntingly dark, his oblivion black pupils flickering with miniature, reflected images of the campfire. “So that’s why I had to go get the lantern the other night,” she surmises swiftly, a curious smile crossing her lips as she looks deeply into her father’s eyes. They didn’t look any different than any other eyes she’d seen, other than that were, possibly, the most green and wonderful eyes in all of Helovia. Those eyes light up as he talks of the Sun God, the child instantly curious in talk of a divine other than the Goddess of the Wood. That the God had so kindly given her sire a means to see in the night almost as instantaneously seals an admiration for Him in her heart, if for no other reason than that He had been good to those she loved. “What do you want with fire, anyway?” Tilney asks, the girl smiling and giggling in quick response. “Nothing, really,” she laughs, looking back at the cheerfully crackling fire, the now blackened logs deeply etched with magma red lines of heat, “it just seems useful, even if it is kinda dangerous. Its warm, and pretty.” Was the Sun God covered in fire? Maude wonders. How pretty is He, then, if the Moon had been more beautiful than the auroras in the Basin? “What’s the Sun like, daddy?” questions the maiden, wondering not only of his appearance, but his deeds (she needed stories to share with Erthë, the next they met, after all), “does he live somewhere like the Moon does with us? Well, not really with us, but like… kinda there, sorta…” Her frown relays all that needs to be said of how very, very befuddled she has suddenly become with this Godly dwelling conundrum. “Where exactly do they live when they are not with us, anyway?” she hurriedly asks next, her eyes wide and questioning. [ OOC: HOW DARE YOUUUUU lol its okay <3 I was slow last week what with the holiday and all anyway :) ] |
@Tilney
Hold onto this lullaby, even when the music's gone.
