Meeting with Argen had been a mistake, but one she had jumped into wholeheartedly. Distracting herself from the gaping hole of loss that seemed determined to make her into a cavern, to devour her until she was but a husk without the light of her darkness. Scoffing at herself for the insanity of that particular thought, warmed inside and out by the salacious act she had just committed, the pale coral girl wandered away from the hilltop that protruded into the clouds like a spire of hope. One she had stood upon as she ripped away the last of her innocence like a particularly bothersome bandaid, like sutures that itched until she ripped them from where they were woven into her skin. No longer whole, fractured, mere pieces of what she was and could have been. What would her mother say? Her father? Gods, what would Leliel say?

Nothing. That's what they'd say. Because she was alone in this fucking world, with a heart too big and too gold for the horrors that awaited the likes of her.

They had nothing to say, they could never impregnate her with the sensation of guilt or shame. They had left her! They had taken her innocence, her devoutness, and shamed and ripped her until she was a shorn piece of ribbon fluttering in the wind. Helpless to what guided her. Helpless to everything, swept away and out of control. By the gods, how Muriel hated being out of control lately. She'd never minded it previously, content to go along with where the current took her, to follow in the steps of any who cared to give her a pleasant smile.

Everything had been ruined.

Where she'd lost herself on the path of life was unknown to the beautiful girl, but at times she rejoiced to have that horrible person gone to the past. Naivety was not as beautiful as she had thought it to be, not until the world had ripped her eyes open and showed her how cruel fate could be. Her heart was like a block of ice, refusing to beat properly, and yet she rejoiced in her sudden newfound freedom. She was free to do whatever she wished, and like a rebellious teenager who had budded way too late in life, she had turned to the physical world of pleasure and unbound obligations.

Argen had been an eye-opening experience, and she had grown addicted to the power she'd felt, the one she'd wielded. There was no real way of finding someone to pursue her path with, but nonetheless her confidence had soared with that single mistake. Though she didn't consider it a mistake, oh no. She found it to be a lesson, showing her the better side, the darker side, of the cruel world she'd been thrust into.

The floating island is beautiful, so far below her. She is powerful, no longer the weak willed child she'd always been, and Muriel had embraced it wholeheartedly. Her dual wings kept her aloft with ease, a pale rose in the sky as she surveys the similar shades of blossom pinks beneath her. She dives like a pale, magnificent flamingo in a swan's body, grazing the petals below with ribboned legs. She soars over the trees, her wings casting huge shadows, and for once she feels triumph and pride in her mutation. Janat had never called her a freak, but she had begun to learn that she was no mutant. She was a powerful, beautiful creature.

Landing with a spray and splash of water in the throat of the hilled waterfalls, she lifts her wings to thrust the water into the air, delighting in the diamonds they create as they hit the sun.

She has found peace.

@[Gull]

From above another comes like a comet, inflamed and scorching the air with the intensity of his emotions. He draws her gaze like he is truly a devastating form of earth, intending to obliterate her and all she has come to know. Powerful, but out of control. The landing alone is harsh, though her eyes strain to see him from the distance between them. He is like a hurricane, unsure if which way to spin, and thus tearing himself apart.

A war wages inside her, the new queen in residence warning against her old ways of compassion and outreach. Yet she cannot ignore the bidding of her own personality, changed though it is. Perhaps it's fundamental to her persona, and attempting to remove her own kindness would be like uprooting bedrock and leaving the rest built on top to crumble. Whoever the stranger is, his emotions are like a tang in the back of her throat, driving her own emotional state into one of discomfort. Her empathy had always been her strongest point, but lately she'd been regarding it as her largest weakness in tandem.

Muriel fought with herself a few seconds more before she crumbles, the only outward sign a pinch of her brow and a soft, resigned sigh. Thrusting herself from the river, she jogs towards the panting fellow, water illuminating the fuchsia ribbons round her legs and clinging to the gold outlines even as it chills her. It collects and beads on the filaments of her feathers where she had showered herself, gleams rose and cerise as she moves towards him.

His distress clings to her like sap, and she wants to rid him of it.

"Hello? Are you okay?" she queries, peering at him with a worried crease to her brow as she slowly moves closer, not wishing to infringe on his personal space nor startle him with too fast of an approach. Already she can feel her heart melting for him, and the new budding side of her scoffs in defeat. It seemed even the worst of situations could not harden her golden heart.


@[Gull]

Pale gems turn to view her slowly, weariness seeming to linger and sap at his very marrows, turning to dial on reaction speed to something far less capable of defending himself. To his credit, her words had not been set in a tone to inspire fright, and he was correct in assuming that she was no more of a threat than the blossoms that drifted on the river's surface. His eyes reflect that train of thought, a pale azure that draws her in, the concern in her budding like blossoms on a birdsong branch. She steps a little closer, watching as his gaze- like all others- was drawn to her wings. Learning they were not a normality in Helovia had been odd, but she'd quickly grown accustomed to the large range of reactions her form brought about. Patiently she awaited him, lavender eyes crinkled at the edges, her concern unwavering despite his exhaustion and distraction.

Finally, a quirk of peach lips lets her shoulders fall down in minimal display of relief, though her expression never wavers. Though his sincerity is flawless, she doubts him. Perhaps he was lying to himself? It was likely, as mere moments later he was muttering bitterly beneath his breath. A soft coo of understanding touched her lips, nearly as quiet as his own ruminations.

"Just because you shall be alright does not mean you currently are," she pointed out as gently as she could manage. Leliel had never failed to grow spiky and vicious when she continued to press, lightly though it may have been. It had instilled in Muriel a tentativeness, a hesitance to her own comforts. Though there was little physically ill with the stranger, and Muriel did not know him well enough to aid him in any other way, so she let him slip into his silence and draw his barriers round with a sort of ignorance that affected them both.

He asks after Muriel next, and she startles, lavender gems going wide and a startled smile flying to her lips. She'd been so lonely lately, she hadn't heard that question posed for many weeks. Seasons, even. "I am doing well. Better now that I have company," she admitted somewhat shyly, but her smile was radiant. Even the most mulish of strangers could lighten her day just because they deemed her worthy of being around.

Stepping closer, her wings fluttered demurely, a better tell to her emotions than anything her face could display. She was nervously excited, beckoning him subconsciously closer with little curls of her wingtips, wishing not to ruin the tentative association they'd formed. "My name is Muriel. Can I know yours? Perhaps I can help you take your mind off whatever has caused you such distress," is offered, voice dropping back to concern and a desire to help as she mentioned his previous state of disarray, face expressive with her dismay over his emotional well-being. Surely not her business, but her heart was too big to not encompass him.

@[Gull]

It seemed he was too far into his emotions to be brought out by her gentle prodding, and Muriel respected that. At times, later on when Leliel had asked her to teach him how to love (a prospect she found as daunting as she had the moment he'd asked it of her), he would be willing to answer and open up about how he was feeling. Other times he retreated, uncomfortable, prideful. Suspecting the handsome stranger was favoring the latter in that moment (and the fact that she was unknown to him likely playing a large part in why he was reluctant to share), she respectfully backed away from that particular method of helpfulness. There were other ways to distract and dissuade the mind from depression and despair. Muriel, having been at Leliel's side all her life, had grown intimate with such tactics.

Whatever it is about her reaction that garners a twitch of the lips only furthers her beatific smile, glowing like a pink sun from within has lit up her insides and melted her inhibitions. What few she had as of late, truly. Loneliness warped the mind into appreciating even the smallest of kindnesses, and she was no exception.

He reels in closer to her, like magnets polarized for one another, and she matches him. No matter how she guards her face, her wings are guileless, low but revealing the soft undersides in a shameless invitation for his physical nearness. Though he had already answered that whim, Argen's closeness played on repeat in the back of her mind. The touch of his muzzle, the profound heat of his body pressing tight and insistent into her own. It was addictive, like whiskey and gin, and she was readily pursuing it in this quiet, tortured soul.

"Gull."

It breaks her out of her thoughts, and she nearly chirps in her excitement, her revelation, her eureka of discovery. "Gull," she repeated, running it sensually on her tongue, tasting every curve and edge of her own syntax forming around the syllable of his name. She smiles like a rose, slow and unfurling, pleased by this simplistic gift he has extended to her. "It's a pleasure, Gull," she exhales on a smile, as if she is a permanent sunrise incapable of moving forward in time. Always soft in her brightness, bringing about hope and clarity.

His pleading breaks her gentle heart, and she nods quietly, her smile slipping for a moment beneath the weight of his seriousness, his sorrow. No condolences could fix this, and so she tried a different approach. "Of course, I apologize," she admitted sincerely on a mere murmur. Turning slightly, she gestured down the river with a slight smile playing on her lips. "Let us forget about it, then. Care to accompany me?" She hesitates only long enough for him to think, dancing backward towards the river and letting her wings ripple and curl in a playful manner, nearly courting were she so bold. Pale gold tips flash in the light, and she cocks her head with an encouraging smile. Perhaps they could merely walk, or play in the water like children. Though it is none of her business, she has made it hers, and the desire to erase from him whatever had hurt him is strong in her.

@[Gull]

He is quiet, but not in a disrespectful way. In fact, she feels as if she has captured and held his attention perhaps more than any other she's ever met. His eyes never waver, crystalline, azure. They drag her in like twin rivers, like the diamond rain that used to fall on Janat. They remind her of innocence, of playfulness and joy that had seemed omnipresent, unshakable. He is intense, in a way that sends trembles playing down her spine like each vertebrae is an ivory key, and he plays her like a finely tuned instrument with the barest of words and expressions. She's lucky he does not know her well, or she would be on her knees at his mercy, so strong was her benign nature. One just knew how to work it, manipulate her, and yet his foxlike features seemed to enrapture her all the same. He was an enigma, a puzzle with ten missing pieces, a glass figurine with a missing ear. Individual, special. It was in the way he looked at her, and Muriel was desperate to figure him out.

Each smile comes in the barest of flickers, a weak flame in a hearty wind, but it zings through her heart and skips it like a pebble across the sea of her emotions. It is a gift, especially considering the miserable state he was in when she'd wandered across him. Like coaxing a frightened child from their hiding place, each baby step lit across her nerves like a fire, a reward for reading him as well as she could manage. In turn, her smile answered his, wordless but beautiful set in the pale colors of her elegant face.

It does not fade as she turns, long legs sauntering to the riverbank and long plume dancing behind her. Gull's steps echoed behind her, muted though they were on the lush grasses, but she felt triumphant over the fact that he had followed her and trusted her enough to help him forget his woes and worries and indulge in the lighter side of life for a few minutes more. It was Muriel's greatest gift, the ability to spin even the darkest of shadows into a glowing thread of light, and she desired nothing more in that moment than to share it with the handsome brute beside her.

They wade in together, and she dips her head to take in a few mouthfuls. Her eyes glance over at Gull, only to see him just as he splashes the water. She jolted, wings puffing out like an angry cat in a rather hilarious manner, and a curious squeaking noise popped out of her lips in surprise. Her gold-streaked hair clung to the curve of her cheek, the hollow of her temple, and curled round her happily squinted eyes. Her shocked silence abruptly dissolved into laughter, a sudden glint in her eyes promising sweet, swift, wet revenge. Her smaller wing dipped into the water, and she flung it up and out to send a large spray of water in his direction. Dancing further into the river she shook her body and laughed, smirk downright devious, daring him to give her his best. His smile alone was all the reason she needed, but it was undeniably fun, and she enjoyed being around him already. Maybe it would be good for the both of them.

They are caught in a stalemate of wonder, staring at each other as Muriel's brain works double time. Had she broken through to him? The idea elates her, for even though he is practically a stranger to her, her soul desired to encompass all living, breathing creatures in a blanket of love and security. To see she had made even the smallest measure of progress was simply staggering, in the best kind of way. Were she aware of the hesitation it caused in him, the shame, she would have reacted swifter. Instead, she let her laughter do all the explaining, cheeks nearly hurting with the effervescent nature of her delight. It is his turn to stare at her stupidly, which only makes her laugh even more, eyes like bright snapdragon blossoms.

His laughter twines with hers soon after, coiling up and out in a symphony of their delight. No laughter could ever sound bad to the maiden, because it was a simplistic expression of one of her favorite emotions. She is caught up in her happiness, partially simply because he was happy, but his movement makes her eyes wink and twinkle mischievously as she dances further from reach. The river is swift but it cannot match the rushing beat of her heart, playing at her legs in the same manner that they play and gallivant around with one another.

A delighted, if surprised, squeak escapes her pale rose lips as Gull suddenly lunged for her. Her automatic reaction was further, breathless laughter as she surged away in response. A game of chase, where the inevitable tag was something interesting, delicate. Unknown. Muriel always was a curious thing. So she pauses, lips curled in an enchanting smile as he suddenly bears down upon her. Even as her eyes widen in surprise, she does not move away, mock lifting her knees as if to embrace or knock against him. Their muzzles dance dangerously close, and his heat washes over her. It prompts a reaction from her, four wings rushing forth as if to welcome him into her embrace. Encouraging, grasping, needy. His chest is fleeting against hers, and she desires him back, but feels as if it's not her right to ask. So instead she does it wordlessly, with her wings and her body.

Their foreheads are nearly touching, and she smiles. Shyer but more radiant. "Well hi there," she laughs softly, quiet, as if speaking any louder would break the spell he'd cast on her. She's tempted to hold her breath, afraid he will back away from her reaching wings, her eyes that are as plainly read as the weather overhead. She was tired of being alone. Maybe he was too.

@[Gull]

Each breath seems to wash over her face, the beat of his heart a mere moment away from her surely being able to hear it. He comes into her wings like a lover, like a missing piece. Pale feathers clasp around him, and she shivers against her will, caught in the flow of her emotions as they stand in the river together. They are shrouded in a veil of feathers, pinks and whites and golds. He is warm and enticing in her grip, and she can't help but shuffle a tiny bit closer, as if they could possibly crawl in one another's skin and never be alone again. Didn't they deserve that? Was the world too cruel to grant them their happiness, swift and baseless as it was? No. She won't allow that to happen. Her wings tighten subtly against his sides as if mimicking her decisive thoughts.

Some pinnacle is reached as he closes his eyes, and their foreheads meet, hornless, bare. Others may have hated them for what they lacked, but they would never be able to experience the deep connection their stances formed. Forehead to forehead, as close as two souls could get without crossing a line she knew was wavering between them. One she'd just as soon see dissolve and fade away like the ripples in the creek they stood in.

A soft, deep sound curls around her like smoke and whiskey, and just as intoxicating. Wordless, as things used to be, so long ago. When they were not even thought of, mere molecules to be created thousands of years later. She responds, a soft whicker of noise through her lips. For his desperation, she responds with softness, with encouragement. It's okay, she's saying. Let go. What she's urging him to let go of, she doesn't know. She can only sense that he is struggling, that there is a peak he has to reach for him to find solace.

Aloud, he seems to do just that.

Muriel likely would have been far more embarrassed by the notion if she had not met Argen. Instead, she merely bumped her forehead firmly against Gull's and smiled until she could feel light flowing into her pores. "I'm right here. You already have me." It is whispered for his ears, and she can't help the warm peacefulness that stirs in her belly. Her wings arch higher and she allows him to take from her. Everything. And this time, it doesn't feel so much like she's empty and shelled. No, this time, she feels whole. She feels healed.