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09-06-2014, 11:12 PM
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CIRCE The shadowmere is snapped quite suddenly, wrenchingly, from her reveries of despair; her ears prick forward, catching the call and the welcome of some winged creature above. Circe’s eyes rose; she caught sight of a gilded fellow aloft on great, mighty wings, the tips of which glimmered in the light of the day as he floated to earth. Once upon a time such a spectacle was liable to rise within her unpleasant thoughts and ideas; disdain for those who thrived upon the wind, shame and regret over the unfortunate feud between herself and the speckled mare of childish, heartbreaking vanity. Now, however, those steel grey eyes only looked upon the gilded stallion with a vague sense of recognition; his appearance brought to mind the heat of the desert, the burning of the sand underneath her hooves—yet she could not place where she had seen his face before… He landed before her, and she made no move to return his grin; she merely stared at him as an unfamiliar name fell upon her ears; her lips twitched, mouthing the words Hidden Falls breathlessly. Her eyes narrowed slightly, something tragic falling within her, some crucial context lost upon her. She shook her head slightly, as though trying to dispel some devastating stupor of shock that she had fallen into. “The Hidden Falls…” she said again, her throat raspy and sore. “But how….?” Her eyes wandered somewhat from the gentleman, lost in vague calculation, a consideration that was hopeless, for the mountains were gone and, with them, the foothills had obviously vanished—but where would a mountain go? How could a mountain be destroyed in such a short time. Had it been a short time since she had resided in the defeated hills…? Or had she wandered the world over for a thousand years, dreaming her daughter’s cold birth, the violence of her sons against her bleeding abdomen? Circe shook herself again, harder this time, bringing herself back into the present. “I apologize,” she said thickly, vaguely aware of her intrusion; she was unable to quite meet his eye, for her own had suddenly become dangerously moist. “I believe I’m lost in some way…but wasn’t this the location of the Windtossed Foothills?” She spoke slowly, carefully, explaining her confusion with dignity despite feeling as though there was some critical farce that she wasn’t privy to, fluttering above her head and out of reach. |
