Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE |
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Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc
Riven |
Although no trace of the Helovian New Year had been felt where both herds and wild hearts mingled as one beneath the Heart of the country, a few unexpected happenings had spurred a change of heart in the mare who had thought so conclusively, that she could not be happy again. Certainly her expression still lacked the optimism which had radiated all through her youth- that was truly gone; the innocence of a pure hearted fool had been lost to the churn of untrained emotion and the callous touch of unruly suitors. The admission of her trespassing had been trusted to Midas; for now that pressure had been lifted well clear of her shoulders, and she could breathe without the wheeze of a guilt riddled conscience. Not yet had the pain of that experienced numbed away- perhaps it never would while the scar stood raw across the empty, wingless socket.
Now she faced mainly the struggles born to an adolescent stepping into the confusingly hostile code of an adult world- sentiments and longings hardly comparable to those silly crushes and fantastic infatuations that swept through a young being at the breath of any other. She could not understand why so many in recent times had been lulled closer by the compassionate touch she so freely offered; it had never been so drastic before. Many had taken advantage of her mild nature and willing heart; she had been hurt and betrayed, and though the lance of each wound still marked her mind, she had ultimately risen above the dejection to claim her right among the mature creatures of the world.
The gentle click of careful hooves resonated only slightly as she passed through one of the narrowest parts of the cave; she was ascending towards The Sanctuary, the last room before stepping into the diseased world outside. So many months she thought had passed, and the unnaturalness of her new home; the confined space and uncomfortably close proximity to so many strangers (any of which could have been refugees from the Basin), had become something unspectacular. This all had become another phase of an inconsistent life; an existence with little direction and less purpose. Warm firelight flickered across the cold dark plane of wall as it curved loosely about her dappled, muddy grey body. The gift given to her kin, the Dragon’s Throat herd had not dwindled like it had the others. Her mane blazed fiercely, harmlessly; and so too did the glorious length of her crimson and black tail smoulder- that was all that remained of the God of the Sun’s rich element upon her.
Other aspects of her character were warping also; though the magic properties therein were still developing- growing in her mind.
Africa had an entirely different focus to that which had consumed her many weeks ago. The grey had not seen or heard from the wingless stallion whose twisted personality had brought her crashing to her knees with despair and guilt, for a long time and now the bitterness left like bruises upon her soul were fading. Though perhaps she would care for him eternally (he had stood strangely close to her heart- a friend that could not control his feelings; but an dear one all the same), she had learned to push his memory far to the back of her mind. New company had been found, many who sought from her that which she needed from them, and Naveen was indeed the best of them. So too had Midas recently warmed her heart; an sentiment that had not been expected- but the history they shared formed sound foundations that seemed, even the worst of treasons (Africa had thought of them to be such) could not fracture their understanding; their friendship.
A cold breeze greeted her as she paused by the gaping doorway into the chamber. To the left, the smaller fissure which lead through to her only connection to the Sun God lay; the soft waltz of lamp-light beyond beckoning her closer. That was not the reason she had come however. Not this time. Africa’s fine coat prickled as Frostfall’s unkind breath filtered down upon her, moaning wickedly as it crept through the corridor to the Heart; wailing the misery of a decaying world to all who the magical cave-system harboured. She drew a long breath and lungs purged angrily the burning chill from their midst, forcing her to cough and turn from the harassment of the air. It was humid beneath the earth- a magical ecosystem which reflected life more fragile and beautiful than anything any mortal had laid their eyes upon above. There was no reason for coats to thicken, or stomachs to ache;
The Sanctuary was a stone prison; a heavenly one.
Few lingered in in these higher quarters; apparently the sensible cared little for the extremities they had once been so exposed too. Only sentinels- Spears, and others affiliated (like herself) to the resistance mulled quietly, and as she moved to pass them, shuffled with eloquent steps closer to the entrance, Africa offered the couple who she recognized to be her own kin, humble smiles. It was time though, with the renewed ability to fly, she and Silas had risen to the task of greeting the Threshold wanderers and bringing them home to safety. She paused though firstly, and stretched the fatigue from each limb there beneath the low-lit protection of the ceiling.
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image credits
Table and Picture by Nicole <3
@[Windwalker]
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.3hh :: 8 Buff: NOVICE |
| Nanna |
It was a long run to the Threshold, but it's even longer when you have little time to rest before you turn around and head back to the sanctuary. I know a few that would say that it is something only a fool would do, but I've never claimed I am not that. So, that's what I've been doing for a time, just to keep myself sane.
As I closed in on the cave's entrance, my lungs struggled with the cold air I breathed in, as it began to hurt like hell. My body was warm and sweat covered my body, in spite of the coldness. My head though, was as clear as day; no negative thoughts, no mulling over things that would never happen and no plans of ruining anyone's day. I should have done this before and more often, as the gambling with my life, payed off when it came to my rationality.
Soon, I let myself become swallowed by the earth, but I did not slow down my speed as snow became stone under my hooves. The sound of my entering made an echo and my heavy breathing should warn anyone to step aside. That was the plan at least, but as I reached the first level of the cave, there was horses there and a ghost.
It was little I could do to slow down the speed I had gained, as Africa's grey dappled body blocked my way. My head went high, my speed dwindled and I stopped, just a feet away from her. Sweat still clung to my body and I knew I looked like a wreck, but she did not. Had she moved on or just accepted things as they were?
Energy still rushed trough and at this point, I could not tell if it was a result of the running or just the fact that she was before me. I had to get rid of it, so in what I would call despair, I danced a round before her. Was I stalling for time? No, I don't think so, for I knew what I would say when I faced her; "Are you going out?"
@[Africa]
![[Image: NannaTable.png]](http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y205/suedomsA/NannaTable.png)
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![[Image: 53837ef3a55e5]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/53837ef3a55e5)
* * * * *
I hate and I love. Why, you may ask?
I don’t know, but it’s happening, and I burn.* * * * *
Please Tag Windwalker In Replies
Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE |
|
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc
Riven |
There was a raucous clattering ahead, like the thundering stride of an army fifty head strong. It forced Africa’s long lean forelegs to stiffen, to hold her there in place while whatever force descended upon the cave, driving headlong into the depths- perhaps they held a wraith in their midst; she held her breath, and waited. Pale creamy eyes were wide with expectation. Since the revelation of the God of the Earth’s cleansing, bubbling waters, many had been brought to task; forced to drink and even bathe until their illness waned. She had personally not witnessed such magic unfold- neither names, nor faces evolved through her mind when she thought about it; but it was hard not to swing with the hope boiling through the underground population nonetheless. With so many disharmonies flanking her life, she was drawn to cling to as many slivers of faith available.
The rigorous sound of rasping breathlessness soon slipped between the rumble of hooves; the travellers neared the room (the strike of fewer hoof beats than predicted became apparent), and Africa shuffled shrewdly from their path. Sound hooves slid noiselessly across the smooth, cold granite floor; the one wing draped across the pitch of her right hip lifted quickly as anticipation engulfed her. One horse fell through the mouth alone, and Africa’s breath choked in her throat; both surprise and sinking disappointment forcing wilted eyes towards the ground. Her heart fluttered wildly; a mass launch of fragile powdery butterfly wings right beneath her twitching breast, and her expression softened shyly.
He could do little to stop it seemed. The rock beneath his hooves and their sheer cloak of sleek raven feathering which descended down each strapping fetlock, was moist, and slick with moss despite the traipse of so many bodies along its surface. Even when the span of his stately stride had slowed by her front, he danced; perhaps still coursing with adrenaline, like those few times she had returned in the same resolute fashion. Africa could only see the switch of his shining, clean hooves with her eyes downcast; they betrayed the presence of fresh snow outside, as did the way the hair about each hoof flap heavily, all clumped together in a sodden mat. She dared not spare a glance towards his face- although she no longer ached so terribly for the hatred he had shown to her, the meek dappled mare wished not to reopen those wounds; fall prey once more to the sinister glare of wicked, ravenous eyes.
He spoke; barely seconds had passed, and she nodded demurely- nervously, one ear rising wilfully from the great web of her thick luscious, blazing mane. "Is it cold?" The question was barely a whisper; a courtesy, because she could not defy the return of modesty to her sensitive heart. The large grey wing rimmed with glossy black had been pulled snug against her quivering flank, and Africa withdrew timidly, submissively, should the stallion be considering again the rash flood of a tirade.
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image credits
Table and Picture by Nicole <3
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.3hh :: 8 Buff: NOVICE |
| Nanna |
I still could not see straight, as the adrenaline rushed through and engulfed every part of me, but I still saw how changed she was. Instead of facing me, she cowered like a scared foal and withdrew herself from me. That made my energy-boost drop to the ground and I finally placed all four hooves firmly down.
Had I really been that harsh?
As I glanced at her, I already knew the answer, even if she had not given me the word I gave her. So that's how I am; she hurt me, so I made sure I hurt her back. Maybe I was tired of always being the one that got shit thrown at me and never had the balls to fight back or even open my mouth. When I think about it, our little talk was the first time in my life that I had stood up for myself. I failed though, for I dragged her down with me. I wish I could take that back.
My breathing slowly became normal and I could finally talk in a normal voice. "Yeah, it's snow." I tried to say it with a mocking undertone, but soon wished I had not. Even that little sentence sounded hard to the wrong ears. Damn, I couldn't even have a normal conversation with her without mocking in my voice.
"But if you run, it won't bother you as much." I said, and managed to put a little warmth and encuragement in the words. "Are you thinking of going to the threshold?"
@[Africa]
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* * * * *
I hate and I love. Why, you may ask?
I don’t know, but it’s happening, and I burn.
* * * * *
Please Tag Windwalker In Replies
Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE |
|
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc
Riven |
He replied only when the voice frayed by exertion began to slow and steady- the undertone suggested to her right away that his attitude; the cloak of arrogance and cocky-confidence had not been shed to this point. It hurt; each syllable struck the brittle remnants of a gentle mind like a club swung with one intention. Accordingly, the ear which had defied her reluctance to face him hurtled backwards to join its feeble companion beneath swirling fire and oily grey tendrils of mane. Agitated, though without the wearing anger and resentment which had been instilled each other moment they had spoken during time spent in The Sanctuary, Africa’s solitary wing ruffled and drew a little closer against the damp warmth of her barrel.
But he spoke again too; she had not expected the shift in his manner- the subtle icing of care which had been genuinely presumed dead and forgotten. Naturally attentive, and not one to favour the burden of unhappiness above a sway so lightening, the dappled mare’s neck lifted, stiffening with the strain of her otherwise fair-masked surprise; soft golden eyes too rising to find what manner engulfed the unfortunately familiar sneer. Lovely black lashes fluttered apprehensively, unsure whether he was lulling her down into false security; the bulge of her dimpled, whiskery chin was tucked snugly to the side of her vertical jugular- she could not risk nearness to one so volatile- so malevolent (he could turn at any moment, right?)
Africa’s quiet, humble voice offered forth her reply after much hesitation; long deliberation. She was properly nervous, bathed in the shadow of a turncoat friend who had rebuked her honesty; and punished still further the lie then delivered for the sake of compromise. "I will run as fast as I can, Wind."
Actually, she would fly as swiftly as she could. She could not explain the magic which had swept through her soul, but there were undeniably affects she could not achieve prior to their descent into the pits of the earth. Formerly, such a blessing like flight had been a rather sensitive topic for the ebony stallion though, so thoughtfully she kept her new found talents quiet. "Yes, I was headed there."
A vague slither of smile passed fleetingly across her thinned lips.
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image credits
Table and Picture by Nicole <3
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.3hh :: 8 Buff: NOVICE |
| Nanna |
I can not live my life, knowing that the one I love, lives in constant fear of what rigid words I will deliver next. By turning my face away from her as she mentioned my name, I concealed the hurt I felt. I do not trust lightly, for life has tought me that those you trust, will leave. Maybe I am more scared than her, more broken. I know I am unloveable. I am born that way.
"I am sorry, Africa." I said, after a little bit of silence. My head did not face her still, as my eyes would betray the things I did not want her to know about me. "I lost control, though that is not an excuse for how I treated you." My weight changed and I got her in my gaze. There was nothing I could offer to make this right. I only had honesty.
"But I want you to know, I do still love you, but I will not live with the hope of getting those words in return. I will live on, as long as I know you will too. Can you forgive me, my friend?"
I spoke the truth. I would live on, either close to her or far away, and use my time to search for something that made me half as happy as she did. The silence brought torture, as I waited to hear my punishment. Would I have to leave, as I always did, or would I be able to stay, only to see her find happiness and love in someone else? The only thing I knew at this point, was that I would pay for my mistake for the rest of my life.
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* * * * *
I hate and I love. Why, you may ask?
I don’t know, but it’s happening, and I burn.
* * * * *
Please Tag Windwalker In Replies
Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE |
|
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc
Riven |
The fragility of the conversation, their reunion, became apparent when a fissure of silence rose between them; awkward and marred only by the moan of the winter weather above ground. Africa hesitated through that moment, unsure what the future could hold for two hearts knifed; hurt and belittled, and the quiet reservation soon overwhelmed the ashen mask upon her face. She had never been in a position so delicate before; at the mercy of one creature for the second time around, unable to shield her own vulnerability from the scathing jaws of resentment. Perhaps foolishness still streamed with the blood through her veins. She was a forgiving soul, unable to hold a grudge for long; still less able to cope with the drama which had engrossed her life at the brazen declaration of this stallion’s true feelings.
He said, after a little time and with a voice filled with remorse she had not expected at all, that he was sorry- that what had happened was a loss of control. Africa’s eyes searched the sadness in his face; if it was indeed that, though the swarthy stallion had turned away to hide. Quietly her gaze was pulled from the stallion’s hunched, recoiled posture and lashes closed humbly to consider the apology. Windwalker began to speak again while she loomed below the obscurity of locked eyelids; though his tone was far from that wild, angry flood of emotion which had reached down to cut a canyon between them, the pensive grey could not rid the memory of his wrath- of the taunting and flaunting, from her sensitive, impressionable mind.
"I don’t want to speak of love again." The pale gold glint in her eyes flashed as they peeled apart to meet the end of his question. She wanted not to hurt him, to burden him with feelings she was to naive to perhaps appreciate, if not recognize at all. Africa wanted to protect herself though as well. "That aspect of our future lies in fate’s hands, and I fear I cannot commit myself to such right now." She didn’t presume to think he would just understand- could not impress upon him that pressure; but just as the revelation of his remorse was truth, so were her words.
And it was the truth. The very existence of Helovia seemed to dangle on a fine twine. Whispers of restlessness, of loathing and hostility had risen from the depths, and it seemed a matter of far greater importance to be rid of those simmering hatefully around them, than to long and lust through clouds of presumptuous oblivion. Africa cared for those around her; Wind still perhaps more than many others, and at the fore point of her mind; her focus, was their safety through these confusing, perilous hours.
Long slender ears tilted towards the downtrodden stallion. "I hold nothing against you. Our friendship stands if you will bear it." The grey velvet rims of her flaccid nostrils rattled thoughtfully, though no hint of emotion glazed her eyes as they watched him.
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image credits Table and Picture by Nicole <3
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.3hh :: 8 Buff: NOVICE |
| Nanna |
How can anyone live without love? It's what friends offers to lighten the burden on your shoulders and what lovers offer to make things brighter. I could live without love, as I do not yet comprehend the essence of it. And yet, her answer stung. It showed, as I watched her deliver her words into the silence. It was all down to me, how I handled my fears, anger and emotions. I can not make a promise like this, but I will try.
"I understand that." I nodded with the words as I slowly regained my stance. I am not from a noble family, but the blood of kings still ran through my veins, pushing the lie forwards. It was a delicate game we played, both using our words to shield our tender hearts. I could not ask her for more.
"But I will wait. I will spend each day to gain a piece of the trust you once had for me, not sleeping until you can look me in the eye and not feel fear. I would kill myself before I inflict any harm upon you. I promise you this, my love, as it is all I have left to give."
I had a war to win. A war that would go on for as long as my lungs needed air and my heart still beat so painfully in my chest. It was a war for control, for love and the right to rule over my own life. I would loose some of the battles, but in the end, I had to win. But I knew my enemy. The cold feeling that sometimes dulled my senses and flooded my mind with darkness. The enemy that so harshly pushed her away in my time of need. But I would win, not the battle, but the war. I would win for you, Africa. And then, when the ash settles on the ground, and the winner announces itself, I would triumph and claim my price - your heart.
Silence roamed between us again, and the fear of speaking out of place forced me to act. With muscles that aced, I began to give her room, so that my body did not block her way to freedom. "I will not claim more of your time." I said, my eyes still fixed upon her. "Be safe."
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* * * * *
I hate and I love. Why, you may ask?
I don’t know, but it’s happening, and I burn.
* * * * *
Please Tag Windwalker In Replies
Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE |
|
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc
Riven |
The room was bitterly cold- unlike those rooms and corridors further below, frosty air from above flushed down through the entrance tunnel to hug tightly around the warmth of the sleek-coated mare; she had taken some interest in her appearance lately, many mats that had clumped across her dappled canvas had been rubbed away, picked by Silas, or chewed and smoothed if she herself could reach them. Instead of the rough, dull appearance that had clothed the absentminded day-dreamer for many years, a subtle lustre reflected the dim warm-red light cast down from the massive lava wall behind the black, wingless stallion. The cave had taken away her ability to fill her time with travelling, collecting and learning (for the most part anyway; there was still the Wall of History to be considered, the Glowing Room to admire); and Africa had begun the gruesome task of self-analysis- her appearance was by far the easiest obstacle therein.
There was a flutter of air; whirling wing-beats behind her, and the humble mare’s mind was stirred suddenly to life by the troubled reservation of her bonded. He did not welcome the swarthy beast’s presence there and made no effort to mask the truth of his opinion. Violet eyes sparkled defiantly, their shining black pupils pinning with contempt as he scrutinized warily. ‘Him…’ the sound of fury murmured alone, inside his beloved’s chiselled skull, ‘…no good. Leave!’ The low rumble of a warning spilt from his snapping, hooked beak- but like their native tongue was incomprehensible to the mythical avian, it would have been unlikely that the stallion could have read the very angry message being delivered.
Africa shifted uncomfortably, unbalancing her bonded deliberately to draw his concentration closer. "Wait…" she cooed, closing her eyes for a moment to soothe away the acrimony flanking his defensiveness with the white sheets of calm. When they reopened, they were wandering diffidently towards Windwalker as silence hedged quickly between their bridled voices. "He means no harm this time Silas. I want to listen to him." She had not the ability to turn a cold shoulder upon one who needed mercy; needed a heart to hold, and some reason to live, and the Roc new such well. Indignantly he closed the vicious flare of his outreached wing-feathers, glittering stars subdued as his temper was reigned in, and he set his bristled form upon Africa’s rump where he could watch the proceedings closely.
The tremble in his heart; the worry and suspicion were all quite right- the stallion told her that he understood, but to understand and to accept were two entirely different things. She could only wish that if he did truly appreciate the perspective she had offered, acceptance would trail somewhere along behind. Emotion had been proven by each now, to be a vindictive, wicked tool- and it wasn’t so much the physical fear which caused Africa such grief. The one-winged mare was a frail-mined soul, tender-hearted and passive by nature. Conflict was not her forte, it was her weakness; and it was mental trauma which lingered far longer than the scars like that strewn across her shoulder (faded, mended). He had wounded her confidence once.
Appreciating the effort, and nature of care in those words, she nodded with a feeble smile.
The seconds to follow were filled with an awkwardness that had never before existed between them. Africa felt her conscience squirm with guilt; unease, the feeling as alien as the sickness swarming beyond The Sanctuary. Windwalker shuffled from her path- which seemed to be an appropriate conclusion enough, but the words surrounding the necessary gesture forced her pale gaze to find and hold his dark brown eyes. Her time was not so grand that she could not spare a moment to speak, laugh or listen to another- her heart ached at the thought that he should think her so ostentatious; so self-important, that she might not want to give to him as long as he needed. "Will you walk with me?" She asked quickly, knowing full well that he was probably tired already from that journey he had just returned from; but desperate all the while to fill any need he had for company- for her companionship.
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image credits
Table and Picture by Nicole <3
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.3hh :: 8 Buff: NOVICE |
| Nanna |
It's weird how a little bird can change the mood completely. I know I am not on Silas' buddy-list at the moment, nor will I be in the future, as he clearly remember how I talked to his bonded. I do not blame him though, as I am more ashamed than hurt of what I did. So I did not look at him, but rather held my gaze to myself as my neck craned.
Then Africa did her magic and made all those feelings go away. Had she still power over me or was it the other way around? It did not matter, as she asked if we should go together. The cold did not seem like a friend now and I would rather find a quiet spot and get some sleep. But who could say no to that face? Well, not me at least, so I gave nod and a smile. "Of course. But if we are going to the threshold, it will be more like running than walking."
I could not help but laught at my own joke, as I am quite weird that way. My face had softened up quite a bit though, and it even reached my eyes. It felt like I was given a new chance to prove that I could be her friend and nothing else. I would take that and do the best I could. Not making any promises though.
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* * * * *
I hate and I love. Why, you may ask?
I don’t know, but it’s happening, and I burn.
* * * * *
Please Tag Windwalker In Replies
Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE |
|
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc
Riven |
It was agreed that they would travel north together- and though she was quick to conceal the tide of relief which flooded through her core, the vulnerable young creature was glad for the prospect of company nonetheless. The darkness above was unsettling; danger loomed without the need for cover, and tireless wraiths guided its hungry relentless fog towards the very scent of life itself. Regardless of her new found ability to fly, Windwalker’s presence would offer a certain level of protection while she searched for those unsuspecting wanderers, new perhaps, to Helovia and the madness encompassing it- and should his word be worth believing, his company would be welcome. Silas croaked objectionably, not nearly as impressed with the outspoken stallion’s apology; nor that he had been invited so freely to join their next mission.
She giggled coolly when he laughed, appreciating both the need for a lighter atmosphere and the fact that he felt comfortable enough to entertain; deliberate or not. "Yes, I suppose you’re right." If nothing else, the humour felled that prickly forest which seemed to strangle the ease which had once been shared between them. Her posture changed; the lines of distress smoothed mildly, and the ridged readiness (should she need to whisk from his company), softened quite dramatically. Africa smiled gently, bright eyes peering quietly across at him and shrugged. She didn’t want him to feel obliged to join if other responsibilities called for his time; but it was not up to her to manage that aspect of his life. The dappled mare could see too that the trouble had dissolved a little from his shadowy gaze as well.
Ignoring the urge to reach and brush her tapered storm-grey maw against the familiar warmth of him, Africa shook lightly the feathered wing which had relaxed to her right side, and afterwards flexed the remaining tension from each of her long, slender legs in turn without lifting them from the damp rock floor. "I hope you aren’t too weary." She crooned thoughtfully, noting the slick sweat darkening a coat as sinister as the moonless nights of the cold season. Because he had already slipped to the side of her path, she moved forward; careful always to mind the places beneath which were slick with mud, slush or that tiny, deceptive trickle of melting snow from above. The frigid wind as she crept watchfully by the guards and out into the Heart’s barren landscape, hit her like a wall of unforgiving ice. Her lungs reeled as the chill was sucked into their midst, and she coughed involuntarily before turning to find her friend through a bothered squint. "My…" The soft note of her voice wrestled feebly with the moaning weather, "Was it snowing through your return? I’m not too fond of Frostfall." Actually, Africa was not too fond of anything similar to Aurora Basin; horns, winter, aggression…
[Note: …to be continued, here.]
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image credits
Table and Picture by Nicole <3
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