the Rift


[OPEN] Answer me this

Satanic Silk Posts: 153
Hidden Account atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.0
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17hh :: 5 (Tallsun) HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
#1
The time has come when I can no longer be left wanting. No longer be left waiting. I cannot stand by and hope for the best. Just as it was after the Darkness, I am left searching for the love of my life. My heart hangs heavy, cracks of doubt forming in the pulsing organ. Africa's sudden disappearance from the Throat left many stunned, myself among them. Was it something I'd done? Why wouldn't she tell me so I could right my wrong? Was it something else? Why wouldn't she tell me so I could comfort her worries? When she had failed to return, I waited. I kept telling myself that she would return. I have responsibilities in the Throat now. As the lead sleuth, I need to be there to help protect my herd from other spies and to do the bidding of Gaucho and Sohalia. I do not resent Gaucho for taking Africa's place - obviously the herd needed another to step up in her absence. Gaucho, as Sohalia's mate and a previous Throat leader, was a perfectly logical choice. But that does not solve the problem at hand: where is my love?

It seemed that my relationship with the grey desert maiden was doomed from the beginning. So shortly after we met the Darkness had separated us. I was infected, a demented, pathetic Wraith. I was possessed and not in my right mind, and even if I'd had the wits to go find her I should not have. Upon my return to full health, I had no idea where she was, and it had seemed that not many knew either. I followed Midas to the Falls, knowing that I could trust him as a brother and as a savior who brought me from the brink of death. When I finally found Africa, she was back in the Throat - as a leader, no less! I followed her there, and our love was rekindled. It was beautiful, revolutionary. I thought that finally we would find happiness. That we could start our life together.

Until she disappeared.

Does she not want that for us? Does she not love me? I don't understand what went wrong, and why I find myself once again alone. I've done so much for her, and yet.... The puzzle pieces have never fit together. Is this a sign? Did she disappear because of me? All this confusion and heartbreak has brought me here to the Falls, my last home before rediscovering Africa. I fly over the border and down toward the pool in the middle of the land. I have no doubt Midas will sight me or Fina will be quick to let him know of my arrival. I land by the water and stand there, awaiting his arrival as I tuck my wings against my body. Midas may know where she has gone. He and Africa have always been close. Perhaps he has heard something that I have not.

WC: 493
Tag: @[Midas]


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Ascended Helovian

Midas the Gallant Posts: 1,164
Deceased
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: Immortal :: Soul is 7 (FF) Buff: HUNTER
Fina :: Common Zephyr :: Phoenix & Wakiya & Neve :: Common Zephyr :: Arctic Angel
#2
Satanic didn't pause, he took off for the heart of our land; I caught sight of his dark frame in the distance and watched with an unusually wary gaze as my friend, my brother crossed our border. (For he is all those things to me.) Sunkissed pinions spread and I followed from the cliff face that sheltered my post, yar, no more than a few minutes behind. Fina and Neve come gliding in from the low laying timber to follow me. They flew together and toward the rear.

Upon approach I'd slipped a smile across my face, and chased the overwhelming swell of concern from my eyes. Foot touched earth, sinking into the soft soil to absorb the weight of my bulk evenly. Upon marking his features a tightening builds in my breast. Silk has the look of a desperate man. One clinging to final straws. This gives renewed worry.

"Hail brother," he'd grown into himself of late, left this hovel as a spry adult seeking his heart, and returned an older man. Only time would tell if he was a wiser one. "Is everything well?" Muzzle extends to exchange scents, as was our custom. Behind my gentle touch a sum of unspoken questions linger. Had something gone awry in the Throat? Were my children alright? Thousands of possibilities; yet, I had a hunch that he was here to give a very different report. Fina alights across my spine, turning her head on a swivel and giving our company a welcoming snarl. Neve was more receptive, she flapped close to those leathery limbs and chortled, giving him one of her best beams.



MIDAS

[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]

Satanic Silk Posts: 153
Hidden Account atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.0
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17hh :: 5 (Tallsun) HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
#3
Midas isn't far behind, as I suspected. His flight brings him close to me, and as he nears he extends his muzzle to mine. I push mine into the empty air before me, and meet his halfway. The touch provides some comfort, but not nearly as much as I'd like. Behind him arrive Fina, and another winged one that I'm not as familiar with. I don't remember him having another companion... Had I ever known, or is my memory failing me?

Is everything well? "No, everything is not well." Not well at all. I don't think to fill the seconds with idle chatter. I have a question to ask and I want an answer. I try to keep myself calm and steady, but the words come out in a panic, rushed and jumbled. "Africa.. the Throat.." I stop myself and take a deep breath, then exhale slowly as I try to calm myself. Agitation and anguish are still painfully visible in my ruby eyes. "Africa left the Throat, and she never came back. Midas, you know how I feel about her. Have you seen her?" Answer me that. My voice is shaky and my knees wobbly. How could she have left without saying a word? How can she be so careless with my heart? I only pray that Midas has seen her, that he can at least tell me that she's safe. They've always had some bond that I've never quite understood. Surely he'll know. "Please..." I plead with him, though I have no doubt that he will be willing to help me. "Help me find her."

"talk"


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Ascended Helovian

Midas the Gallant Posts: 1,164
Deceased
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: Immortal :: Soul is 7 (FF) Buff: HUNTER
Fina :: Common Zephyr :: Phoenix & Wakiya & Neve :: Common Zephyr :: Arctic Angel
#4
I knew the pain my desert brother felt, understood that anguish because I'd walked a similar path. There was a moment of guilt for not calling for him when she arrived at my border, nar, but there was also an unpredictable slice which was mildly jealous, and protective of the girl I'd looked after and watched at a distance for years. He was coming to take her away.

My crown dips into a nod, softy I reply, "Be easy she is here and safe," trying to be reassuring for his sake, though my gut was twisting with remorse, "I found her a few weeks ago, along the border. Weak and very nearly starved." torn that he'd come looking, regretful because I didn't know what else to say, "Africa was in no condition for travel, though she is on the mend and should be strong very soon." Frame turned away from him, expecting that the leathery fellow would follow without encouragement. Quietly I add, "This way, I'll lead ye to her."

Fina glared at him from my rear while Neve fluttered back and forth, enthralled by his wings and the lack of feathers. She chirped merrily, seeking attention and not understanding the sense of anxiety in the air nor the mix of emotions traveling through our bond from me. The short walk to yon caverns wouldn't be nearly long enough to come up with a solution that would solve both conflicting hearts. I settled for the short term solution and buried my ideals into a hole. What did it matter, I had no claim on yon girl anyways.


MIDAS

[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#5

From his post in a tall tree, the tallest in fact and the nearest straggler to the cells beyond the meadow, lilac eyes narrowed incredulously as two figures passed from the tree line beneath en route to the shelter of his resting beloved. An apprehensive snarl slipped from Silas’ cold hooked beak and he made no secret of their coming.

Company... he told his bonded with rising contempt in his tone. Leather-wing approaches. Feathers ruffled as warm sunlight spilled down across them, soaking beneath to warm both skin and soul, igniting adrenaline and fuelling disgruntlement. Glossy black wings flared abruptly and with star-shine spilling in his wake, the zephyr dropped to glide by the rear of the travelling duo and a strident cry pierced the atmosphere.

Africa lifted quickly to trembling knees and stepped from the cover of the cave towards the water’s edge nearby. Opposite, on the other side of the worn track that spilled down towards her, was still the cloak that she had lain across branches to wash in the rain and then dry, velvet rim rippling in the slow Birdsong breeze. She passed it barely a glance; shunning the memories hidden beneath its light weight, of times that she feared facing. Clean, chipped tan hooves found the grassed bank with no time to spare, and as the scuff and click of the stallion’s stride tumbled ahead of their arrival, the Starry-Eyed found neither time to neither freshen nor wet a suddenly parched throat.

She turned towards them and stunned eyes slipped from the Gallant’s gold-inscribed face, meek smile melting rapidly, towards Silas who swept then in from the rear with larynx rumbling fiercely. Africa had not expected to see Satanic Silk here, and her lips twitched with mounting disquiet. She did quell quickly the surprise from her expression as pale eyes fell hesitantly upon the silvery maned stallion, and something of a forced smile etched its way across her maw. Still, her body stood quite ridged, flames reeled angrily above the slouch of her neck, and the rippling reflection beneath quavered.

Africa

Satanic Silk Posts: 153
Hidden Account atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.0
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17hh :: 5 (Tallsun) HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
#6
I wonder what Midas is feeling. Of course he is willing to help, but there seems to be an emotion that he quickly buries beneath the surface.. and I don't recognize it. I chalk it up to sadness and grieving as he relays the information that he has regarding my love. The important part is that she's alright. Despite what she's gone through, she's safe and she's going to be healthy in time. My heart aches at the thought of Africa starving and weak. Why wasn't I there to help her? What could I possibly have been wrapped up in that would keep me from her? I trusted that she would never leave me. That was my mistake. I should have stayed with her every moment of every day, to make sure that nothing would separate us. But then... I'd never thought she would want to leave me. Surely that's not why she disappeared?

I'm not sure I understand why she didn't come back to the Throat. Sure, Gaucho reappeared within the herd, and I can understand that she might have felt some pressure. Gaucho can be intimidating and Africa is, well, rather timid. And she knew Midas was here in the Falls - does it not make sense that she would go looking for someone she fully trusted and knew could care for her? Of course it did....

But why wasn't I included in that category? Why wasn't I her someone?

Midas turns and leads me in the direction of Africa. Fina has a permanent scowl on her face, but I take no heed. His other companion hovers around me, fluttering with excitement - she is clearly fascinated by my wings. I don't mind her restlessness, and let her explore what is clearly a first for her. Before we can get far though, I hear a familiar cry, and Silas comes into view. My head slices through the air, ears perked forward. I whinny to him. He is not fond of my either, but I know him and I know that where he is, his bonded will not be far behind.

The dapple grey mare arrives soon after, looking to be in good health. I'm ready to rush toward her, to check her over from head to toe and make sure that Midas has done a good job taking care of her, of which I have no doubt. But before I can move even a step forward, I can see there's something different. Much different about her. Not markings, not injuries, not anything she says. It's.. her body language. She greets Midas with a small smile, but the look she gives me is... I can't put a name to it. She's tense, her smile that appears is forced.

She says not a single word, and doesn't move a muscle toward me.

I don't know what to feel. Fear. Fear is what starts to creep through my own muscles, replacing the anxiety that had practically been swallowing me whole. Why does she hesitate? Why doesn't she speak? Why.. why is her body like that? Where is the open, embracing love that we had what seems like such a short time ago? Recognition is in her eyes - it can't be amnesia... What has happened to the woman I love? Tears begin to fill my ruby eyes and I blink them back fiercely. My lips tremble, and my voice is uneven as I will myself to speak.

"Africa..."

573
@[Midas] @[Africa]


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Ascended Helovian

Midas the Gallant Posts: 1,164
Deceased
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: Immortal :: Soul is 7 (FF) Buff: HUNTER
Fina :: Common Zephyr :: Phoenix & Wakiya & Neve :: Common Zephyr :: Arctic Angel
#7
I led a quiet march to the prisons/caverns. It was silent save for the muffled thump of feet against earth, and the comforting whoosh of alabaster wings thrusting at the air above our heads. Yar, my own swirling thoughts kept awkward silence at bay. They spent their time passionately clawing a path back to the surface. Alas, we weren't alone for long; Silas soon caught sight of us and came through the fragmented light and evergreen timber.

Fina stiffened visibly when she caught sight of him. His voice rose; was the Roc announcing our coming with gleeful passion or condemning it? His shriek made me feel the latter was the most likely of such two.

Feeling outdone, Fina's flamming tail spread, fanning in a rather prudish manner; she replied with equal rapport and angled away from him. Sulking. Neve soared to his level while squeaking in delight from witnessing yet another of her growing list of possible playmates. A sigh whelped in my chest -- to be quickly stifled. Their scoffing was rapidly becoming white noise. Africa's dappled grey body came on ahead, a greeting momentarily flashing across her lips before fading from sight when gentle pools caught the dark male behind me. Gilded pools narrowed, I drew to a halt and stepped aside. As one always did when they cared for the wellbeing of friends and family; though lately it seemed like I was always stepping aside for the sake of others.

Gaze shifted to the pair, I noted with mix feelings how Africa held back-- was she simply being reserved, or was the healer upset? "I'll leave ye." nodding toward them both, I slowly trailed off into the northern forest. Both ears are forcefully pressed hard forward. Neve lingered a moment longer, a pinched frown curling down her face. Softly she cooed to Africa attempting to bring back a beam which was true. I slipped beyond their sight, only when neither could see did I dare to look back.


MIDAS

[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#8
Time seemed to slow suddenly, to stall, as if to provoke and prolong an uncomfortable situation from which the Starry-Eyed could never hope to run or hide. This was inevitable; it was apparently just as inescapable as death, perhaps too just as grim...

Pastel eyes glinted apprehensively in the stroke of golden sunlight as they turned swiftly to glare at Silas’ wheeling frame above – was this an ill-timed game that he found some perverse pleasure in? No. Her loyal bonded was equally agitated by the sudden appearance of the bad-boy. It was a first impression that could not be shaken from his memory – no matter how tender a tone he touched Africa’s ears with, or the fond caress of his ravenous, relentless eyes.

Fina’s competitive scream and inflated, flaming form drew swiftly all eyes, but her commanding performance seemed all for nothing, grandstanding perhaps, and interest soon waned as she angled away. Neve on the other hand lifted before him like an incessant summer insect, and it took all of the remarkably tolerant ebony zephyr’s willpower to remember her immaturity and respect that timeliness had not yet found any significance in her life. For that moment the little frost-feathered avian managed to distract him from duty...

Beneath them, the painted stallion, the Gallant, was already turning; had bid them parting words, and Africa watched him with a sinking heart, vanish into the forest from which he and Silk had come minutes before. Perhaps there was not thus far strength of adoration or infatuation between them (she couldn’t know his feelings), but Midas had in a sense become her safety net; the constant when everything around her seemed to be spinning out of control. He never looked back, and quietly she turned nervous eyes back to her desert kin, her partner who remained; the waver of his voice like a knife through her conscience.

It occurred to her then, as rueful eyes watching his crimson gaze bat away strange glassy confusion; that she had done him an enormous injustice by abandoning the life they had, the love they had shared, and perhaps dealt him a wound that was simply unforgivable. "Silk," she answered softly, vaguely, casting her eyes to the grass as she fought a battle of her own against the burning wrath of tears. "I don’t know what to say to you." This moment had come too quickly; Africa was hardly prepared to confront the truth.
Africa
@[Satanic Silk]

Satanic Silk Posts: 153
Hidden Account atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.0
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17hh :: 5 (Tallsun) HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
#9
Midas leaves us, seeing the growing turmoil that is birthing before us all. Africa and I both are carrying so much emotion, so much... weight. It's going to surface now, and though Midas is welcome to stay, it may be overwhelming for any third party. He takes his leave quite politely, and his two companions follow him with not much glance backward. I watch Africa as he leaves, and I can see in her eyes that she doesn't want him to go. My heart clenches painfully. I pale in comparison to Midas. I love and respect him deeply, but I would not give up my love should he beg, plead, nor challenge me. But she is not mine.

As she turns her gaze back to me, all I can say is that... she still isn't mine. I thought.. oh how I've thought. I've been so wrong. My chest is tight with emotion, tears - like a weakling, I think - threaten to spill out my eyes and down my cheeks. I don't want to, I don't want to fall apart in front of her. But all the feelings... what am I gonna do. I didn't think I was ever built to feel as strongly as I do right now. 'I don't know what to say to you.' I stare agape. At first, I can't say anything, as if my voice has been stolen away. What.. what am I supposed to say to that? Is she backing down from everything that's built up to this moment? My lips part as if to speak, but they're so dry not even a whisper would pass them. I wet them, and try again. I clear my throat, because I might just choke on the words.

'I don't know what to say to you.' "You don't know what to say?" I let out a dry laugh, clearly not pleased with this phrase. "How about you explain to me... everything." I look away as I try to decide on my next words, how to present my feelings. Do I spill it all? Do I wait for her? I can't run away, I can't hide from this. This painful, uncomfortable moment. It needs to happen for the both of us. This pregnant moment that's been building and building.... Does she know how much I hurt? I can't even imagine what she feels because she AVOIDS me. She won't SEE me or TALK to me. What am I to do? "Africa, I love you. Do you feel the same?" And the tears are falling.

I turn to face her again, my voice accusatory and completely heartbroken. "I've been chasing you all over and just when I thought we were happy together, you left. You came back and didn't even think to let me know!" My normally deep voice cracks, and all evidence of manhood is gone. I'm broken and offering up the pieces of my heart to her. Please fix them Africa, please repair what is shattered. I don't want to speak these next words. I don't want to ask because I'm afraid of the answer. But these are words that need to come, that I want a real, solid answer to. I want to know what I'm doing with my life and if I'm wasting my time pursuing a love that will never truly love me the way I love her.

"Africa. I've never felt about anyone like I feel about you. I don't want to live a day without you. You are the light of my life and give me purpose. Since the day I met you, you changed my life forever. Africa, please answer me this: Will you be my mate? Will you love me as deeply as I love you - forever?" Tears soak my cheeks, and my eyes are as deep and soulful as they'll ever be. I don't want to be in this vulnerable position, I don't want to feel so helpless. But perhaps if she sees me so tender and weak... maybe she'll know just how serious I am. Just how much I mean every single word, and how desperate I am for her to make me whole again.

"talk"
WC: 695
@[Africa]


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Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#10

He laughed – a startlingly empty sound which grated viciously on her already frayed nerves. There was a scathing glint in his blood-red eyes and it glowed ferociously as the sun showered down upon him, illuminating the chaos of emotion that riddled his expression; a guardian for this perilous adventure? Nay, the Sun sought retribution too, surely... Africa felt herself shrink backwards helplessly across trembling, itchy legs, but where was she to go now? He knew this woodland wilderness far better than she. It was the home that he had abandoned to follow her; lulled by the song of the siren, enchanted by false promises, crocodile smiles...

None of this had been deliberate. She danced through the ever rolling tides of her own frivolous emotion; lust, infatuation, excitement. She had no control over her own heart – had not she told Wildwalker the same thing? You just can’t force love. It grows, or it withers. He seemed not to accept the absence of her reasoning, the way she cowered behind a veil of guilty indecision; dishonesty and spinelessness. And she knew this was fair.

Should she lie this time too?

Eyes glazed fearfully, consumed by the rebellion of the clandestine thoughts beneath; they turned again towards the tree line as Silk’s stiff stare broke away; stealing a glance that would surely add salt to raw wounds if it were discovered. The pain, the agony swelling behind his gaze as it returned was stunning, the tension through his sleek black shoulders, the dejection; the throb of her pulse was deafening!

His next words came like a knife through her windpipe – the truth ricocheted all around her, a haunting echo that was perhaps only the whisper of a guilt riddled conscience. Feeble eyes swept back to the cell beneath the mountain which had been her refuge; a hole inside which she had hidden from an avalanche of problems, from this wretched soul who had done naught but hunger for her commitment and affection. His voice broke as it trailed, and Africa’s heart almost broke in two, grieving for his loss; adoration that she had once mirrored, or had it been hopeless infatuation? Africa the Heartbreaker... she thought bitterly, thinking vaguely of the urchin who had torn off his own wings. The air that surrounded that grim moment now seemed to cloud she and Silk now, a thick, bleak fog that she could never hope to escape.

Another pause, a silence filled to the brim with confused energy; anger, despair, hope... shattered.

Africa was a sitting duck; or was he? Who was the victim here? He the master of manipulation, begging for her love, grovelling as though his very life depended on it;, and she, she had changed her mind as though they were nothing more important than the flavour of food – a child’s inconsistency.

So much had changed; as the Starry-Eyed stood there before the broken stallion, with tears of lament burning her eyes, there was an older grace about her. Where once she might have reeled beneath torrents of resentment, descended into her pitiful habit of self loathing, a ritual when everything else flailed out of her control, she stood with a frighteningly solid resoluteness; confidence. There was no denying the new attraction forged through her mind, and it was not simply the flutter of volatile teenage lust – which she had felt, too, years before. As she stood like a soldier facing the grim aftermath of battle (because that is what this had escalated to), it became all the clearer; beautiful affection nurtured, now as strong as the hills grouped around her. Perhaps that was why she had been so blind to it... The feelings were an intricate artwork, coloured by the truth, the law of time. Such a long time.

Her heart belonged to Midas, it always had...

How could she cry? For her, there was nothing but sunlight ahead, the promise of warmth and purpose rewritten. Africa felt shame, embarrassed that she could not will forth floods for Silk now; could not equal the pain that so very obviously crippled his crumbling soul. His face was damp, saturated by the blood of their shattered relationship, and while the empathetic part of her sought to comfort him, to touch and caress, the only face she saw was the Gallant’s – so many memories woven together, a blanket far stronger than the very fine string from which Silk had been dangling. Was he just a stepping-stone along the natural path of discovery? What was life without lessons? She was sorry that his, on this occasion, had been so excruciating – love at first sight, true love, really did exist...

The Starry-Eyed sighed deeply, sadly, and her sympathetic gaze sought his at last – tender, rational. "I... I can’t love you Silk, not the way you ask me to." Africa loved Rei... she loved Sikeax, Nasreen and Sohalia too. Her tone was remorsefully quiet, as delicate as an ocean mist. "You have touched my life, warmed my heart and been a friend like no other." She quelled the playful giggle rising like bubbles in her throat, as she thought of the adolescent nature of their experiences – her experience; but her face grew solemn, and her brow creased beneath the weight of decision. After this, there would be a fond embrace to comfort her, but for Silk, only the empty arms of loneliness would welcome him home. It was a terrible fate that she would have wished upon no one – but she had no choice anymore. "I’m sorry Silk, I have nothing left for us."

Africa

Satanic Silk Posts: 153
Hidden Account atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.0
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17hh :: 5 (Tallsun) HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
#11
Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts


I watch her, desperate for any sign that she might give me the answer I hope for, the resolution that I need. I pray to all the Gods that the answer is in the positive. 'Please, please say yes.' Every fiber of my being is tensed, I'm holding my breath waiting. But the look on her face, in her eyes... She doesn't want to be here, she doesn't want to face this. Like a cornered animal she wants to run and hide from the danger that is my desperation for answers.

Her eyes tell me a different story than the one running in my mind. The answers that I seek.. the hope I have that this story will end 'happily ever after'.. She paints the opposite picture. Her eyes don't hold the sorrow I do. Sympathy. Her eyes are sympathetic. Before she opens her mouth to speak, before those beautiful lips part.. Lips I had once felt on my neck, on my cheek. Lips that kissed away tears and spoke words of love and affection... I had been so certain. I thought I understood, that I knew with conviction that we were right together, that we had found each other in a whirlwind of random encounters and romance and that we were meant for each other.

But her eyes told me that the path my heart followed was a lie. I'm on a path leading to nowhere, to walk into the sea or off the edge of a cliff and there's no one to catch me. No one to save me when I'm drowning or catch me before I hit the ground. I am alone in my plight, and the love that I thought was standing next to me is just a phantom. A wisp of hope, a desire, so fully formed, gaining strength -- tangible, I thought it was real. Blow and it disappears.

I blew too hard.

Baby, please come back
It wasn't you, baby it was me
Maybe our relationship isn't as crazy as it seems
Maybe that's what happens when a tornado meets a volcano
All I know is I love you too much to walk away though


Her lips part, those kissable grey lips, and they tell me the truth. The truth that I should have realized, should have accepted, denied with every fiber of my being. She tries to soften the blow, tries to make it more understandable, more relatable, more acceptable. She doesn't want to break my heart, she's always been too nice for that. She doesn't want to destroy me and leave a mound of Silk left for others to tromp through. Don't spare me, Africa. Tell me how it is... But she does. She does tell me and the words are like knives. How cliché but could it be truer? 'I'm sorry Silk, I have nothing left for us.' You try to soften the blow but you took away the mattress just before I hit the ground. Could you have worded it less horrifically?

'I can't tell you what it really is
I can only tell you what it feels like
And right now there's a steel knife in my windpipe
I can't breathe but I still fight while I can fight'


I try to blink away the tears but it does me no good. They have a mind of their own and they flow freely down my cheeks. How can I have shame of my feelings, certainly I have more than the female before me. I have so many feelings built up deep inside I don't know what to do with them anymore. I cry for you Africa I cry for us. I cry for the future that lies in uncertainty. At first I say nothing, because what words are there? Thank you? I'm sorry? Love you still? Nothing seems right, nothing feels right.

I was lovestruck. I knew where I stood, I was grounded. Now I'm floating and the world seems surreal. Who is this one-winged beauty standing before me? Was this all make believe? Did I imagine it all from the beginning? Were my feelings based on a fantasy? What was it that night by the fire that made me change, see the world in a different way? We had both changed, but we took separate paths and never converged the way two lovers should. I part my lips, nothing comes out. I try again, and again. I get frustrated and rage flares before burning out and I try again to speak. This time it works.

"The part of me that I gave to you, I will never get back." I stop, feeling myself choking up. I can't lose it now, I can't fall apart anymore than I already have. I can't let her see me lose everything I am. Everything I gave. "I wish you happiness, Africa the Starry-Eyed." I spread my wings, and hesitate just one moment, as if to say something else. I look at her with wistful eyes, pained expression marring my features. There is no escaping the agony of a shattered heart. I turn and run, gaining lift off to return to the desert land.



I land clumsily in the sands of the desert, my legs crumpling beneath me as soon as I have slowed enough to avoid injury. My wings in a heap, sand sprayed around me. I'm pathetic. My mane and tail splayed awkwardly. Sand partially covers me. I take a deep breath.... And I begin to cry, as a mother who has lost her babe. For I have never known love before now, and so have never known love lost. I have given so much of my short life to a woman who never returned the love that I so freely gave. I move a wing over my face, shielding myself from the light. And I cry until I can cry no more.

Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because I love the way you lie



Walking "Talking"

Satanic Silk
[Image: silkicon2_by_lainey_lou-d73bsek.png]
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*You may do anything you wish with Silk excluding dismemberment and death.

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#12
The silence was deafening, startling, intimidating.

It had been something Africa had not really anticipated, especially given the torrent of tears unleashed to stain his cheeks still a darker shade of black; the flood of words, of raw emotion which had moments before unravelled the anguish of his thoughts before her. He was a broken man draped like old web before an empty, sunless horizon... a future that had been planned around her - his love and his life. She realised this. The dappled mare was not oblivious to the wound she had dealt him, and so cruelly at that; she was so fickle in love.

There was cold, hard stillness between them, building, threatening to shake the resolve from her very shoulders. He was vulnerable, yet she was crushed by the weight of his mourning; this torture. Still weathered skin rippled visibly across her jutting bones, transparent worry, and she swayed as the throb in her ears grew to an unbearable level - as the frenzy which had been, all seemed to dissolve away into nothing. Africa drew a deep breath and held it.

His hurting gaze wavered beneath thrashing lashes as though in vain effort to subdue the emotion that poured forth still, residual, helpless grief from his breaking heart. She watched broodingly, strength weakening as his seemed suddenly to grow. Anger flared and his sleek body seemed to bristle before her – it was terrifying, no matter how brief, for she had known only the softest of his moods.

Silk... she sighed, but it was nothing.

He was speaking, at last; words to question her control, pinch her conscience and erode all of the courage she had mustered to face this... him. She likened his admission to one made by Midas about the mare he once loved deeply, Ktulu the Constrictor – there had been similar sorrow wrought into his face, and Africa thought it to be more than ironic that Silk should now suffer that same fate. Yellow, creamy eyes withdrew unhappily and tumbled down across the ground between them, but his brilliant leathery wingspan unfurled and threw her beneath deep shadow – dark, dour, and she was compelled to look back. Water began to pool, to boil and scald her mottled grey cheeks, slowly, barely. Was this truly what she wanted?

It was over... it was too late.

Say something...

A hurricane of memories filled her mind suddenly though as his melancholy eyes held her, for just one last time; they ignited like a wildfire, a frenzy, breathing last minute life into the love that had been.

A fire crackled softly as the pale face of the moon shone down and the soft sombre tune of both glory and loss rose above it. She was there, the Diviner, the Sun’s keeper, and it was her voice which lifted ode to the starry-night. He appeared through the darkness thuggish, gruff and in a manner that Africa had thought so curious – so unique. She remembered, and one more hot remorseful tear rolled free of its weir, how he had been so fearless; how his whiskers had singed revoltingly when he had reached to touch the sacred flame of Dragon’s Throat. The faintest of smiles reflected beneath glassy eyes, but the sadness blurring them was far too potent.

The waves were rolling behind them suddenly, the gentle roar of the ocean, with brackish mist beading across their shadow-licked coats. The brilliantly familiar scent of it rose to meet her sucking nostrils as they lifted, and her lungs choked for a moment, desperately holding onto the illusion; their memory... It had been only the second meeting between them, but even so early her heart had been a flutter with unbridled intrigue, infatuation – that was true. He had questioned without hesitation the sadness owned by her gentle heart, the agony of gravity, the scar which had been so raw across her shoulder still. It was the first time they had touched, and suddenly she remembered the beautiful chemistry which had evolved, all from that moment.

He had found access into her vulnerable soul; a way in that she had never realised existed, that she had been powerless to deny him.

Silk had been that first key to her healing.

She fell from fond dreams with a tender smile and thundering heart, but all hope vanished when she realised he was gone. No trace of him remained, not even the hue of his company had been spared by the wicked breeze which combed the flickering fire crown she wore. As her pained face sank into the ruins of reality, tears began to tumble from burning eyes. Her heart felt as though it might burst at any moment and her throat was filled with stiff grief. Sooty knees turned then towards the baron prison she called home, thoughts spinning, cursed with realisation as grim as death – loss, raw and bitter. And she collapsed between cold, stone walls.... Africa, the Starry-Eyed.

He has given up on me...

Africa


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