.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
02-05-2014, 05:15 PM
In the dimly illuminated room she felt the stirring of air unlike the natural draught the waterfall proffered; it promised warmth and flesh, a living thing materializing from the cold stone. She felt it come beside her, as light and silent as a feather falling through the dark. Pretending to be startled from her reverie, the lightning queen jerked her head to face him, a golden-maned paint drinking solemnly at her side. Azulee meant to give him a brisk look-over, but instead found herself taken aback to the gruesome scars on his back. Were they the sad remainders of wings, ugly holes where majestic appendages once grew? She pressed her own pair closer to her body, glad of the welcome weight they offered—she could not imagine how it felt not being able to fly. Through a stony countenance, the stranger offered empathetic words, and the girl instantly diverted her eyes of his scar, shameful of her own morbid interest. "Don't we all, in these trying times?" she murmured, attempting a rather unconvincing smile. Before she could think of anything else to say to break the humid silence between strangers, a laden sob broke it for her. Azulee's head jerked toward the noise, white-rimmed ears perked alertly as glinting electric eyes strained to pierce the swarthy darkness. It did not take long for the newcomer to reveal herself: a small, dark pegasus with intriguing markings the color of her own eyes etched into her skin. I'm fine, she said, brushing past them as if tears did not glitter in her eyes. The warrior blinked. "Why do you cry, then?" she said bluntly, finding herself unable to generate consoling words. "Trying to hide sadness is a fool's errand," she said more gently after a brief silence, thrusting her nose toward the mare in an offer of sympathy. Azulee moved a stiff two steps toward the disdraught mare, frantically wondering what to say to appease her tears when she had barely dried her own. "I am Azulee—" the roan offered, sparing the wingless grey a glance. "What ails you so? I am but a stranger, but at least let me share your pain," she said awkwardly. Was this what being selfless was? She wondered how her own mother did it so flawlessly; how was it possible to not feel like a fraud while trying to calm another? i've got your wild-eyed ways. |
