| She tries not to sink beneath the weight of his relief, to let her soft gratitude go to her head- but she cannot help her feelings of pride, the swollen content that now, at last, she has found her place, validity for the confidence of the Sun which she has so uncomfortably worn. Limbs uncoil from the soft, dark ground, hooves pushing up against the earth; she stands, coal gaze resting beneath slightly hooded lids. Dark lips curl in an open smile; she thinks she could vanish in the bright blue eyes, be devoured by the magic she feels behind them, and it is only when the girl feels contact on her crimson skin that she flutters, surprised, and draws away.
She does not say You're welcome or Of course or I'm just happy you're better. Make sure to drink lots of water and rest well. Here are some herbs (this last one is the largest fallacy, for to be sure, the girl doesn't even know what most herbs are, let alone their medicinal properties. She makes a mental note to ask Andromeda). She does not say anything, because that is not her way, but her brother is there to fill her silence, barking his joy that the mare is well, pressing his body against the girl in hopes to lend his bonded strength. New magic, he murmurs just for her, pausing to chase a wayward spark. It lands on his nose and he sneezes, surprised with the knowledge it does not burn. The girl is too tired to heed this fact, though the back of her mind toys with it, enthralled.
The rain eases; she can feel magic being used against her own, and the sensation is curious and makes her blood twinge. She glances at the hovering light, relieved to for once have control over Lace's magic, pleased to see only one orb, which is not hers. Long-lashed eyes follow though to the stallion, only to find he is looking away.
Looking at her, Cirrus, the pretty sky-kissed mare who the girl knows is lovelier than she, older, probably wiser and cleverer too. Certainly more outgoing and forthright; black eyes watch as the mare steps forward, closing the distance between herself and Lace. A memory floats through the fire child's mind, the expression of Sacre and his abject obsession- Lace looks nothing like this, but she thinks she can detect a hint of it on his breath, the scent of fascination in the curve of his neck. It confuses, appalls, and makes her uncomfortable, unwilling to confront the thought in her heart: will someone look at me like that?
Could use the magic, Natraj puts in, effectively breaking her from her reverie. She frowns, glancing at the innocent face of the little fox, and he grins in response, pleased that he's drawn her from her own morose mind. Black eyes close and she shakes her head, silently releasing a pent up sigh. Her family has returned; so why now, more than ever, does she feel so alone?
"We should go." The words slip out without behest, flickering shadows in the false-lit night. A smile slips back onto her face, tired now, weary, and something else too. She raises her crown but the long neck stays low, shifting attention between equine and winged. "I..." A pause, for she can think of nothing else. "Lace is the one to thank," she murmurs at last, black gaze resting on her silver friend. Weight shifts and she steps away, head swinging back to face the forest, muscles straining to make their languid escape.
@[Cirrus]
[ unless someone calls her back, you can play it as Tavi out ]
THE FIREDANCER
for it was I who walked among the falling stars, and did not burn | |
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