the Wind Dancer

He rambled on about how her actions could have led to dire consequences, and the girl could barely contained the motion of her eyes rolling about her skull in a mockery of his 'wisdom'. Yes, she was rash, but why worry about what could happen unless it actually happened? Consequences of actions was something she had dealt with her whole life, just like everybody else, did he think she didn't already know? Distaste wrinkled her nostrils as she wondered at the impression she had made upon him… Just another rash, childish mare who didn't know how to survive in this harsh reality. He was a King, a steed in the prime of his life, who, despite holding only a handful more years than her, had probably lived far much more of a life than she. She could only sniff like a petulant child at his remark, unwilling to admit she agreed with him, unwilling to concede her weakness so openly. How could he ever understand? His soul was probably entire, his life filled with the comforts that a King has earned, the respect and love of his peers and those who lived within his kingdom; surely there was no way he could fathom the intensity and depth her wounds ran…

And yet, there had been that shadow, that pull of sorrow and fatigue Cirrus could not define, that desperation behind his gaze that spoke of years of misery and heartache. As her ears pricked amidst the tickle of the willow fronds, she pondered his query, wondering who exactly he had met in his walk on this realm to give him such an impression. Cirrus tried to think back on her own life, both within and outside of Helovia. "I suppose everyone feels like they have to apologise for different things. A King, for example, might feel that they have to take responsibility even for a foolish mare's rash attempts to insult him." She spoke the words lightly, allowing a flicker of amusement to colour her sharply hued gaze, and the edges of a smirk to soften the curves of her lips. A wink even fluttered over one of her cerulean gems, to impress the art of comedy she was trying to convey to the steed, who had self-admitted trouble with the way of Helovians (despite being a King of one of the lands here).

His next query, however, left her speechless for some time. The girl knew she had opened the door for questions like this to come, but still she found herself unprepared, scared. A shiver shook her muscular frame, though the heat of BirdSong rained down upon them readily with the Sun God's rays. Tears rose swiftly behind her eyes, and she shut them behind darkened lids, her ears tilting backwards - not against her skull in anger, but rather just leaning back, expressing the pain she felt. He kept speaking, and somehow, his deep tones reassured her, calmed the storm that threatened brew within her - the clouds overhead had begun to darken, her pelt had transformed from a sunny sky to a dark and dismal grey. But the rain held, the clouds slowed in their forming, and the girl breathed out a shaky breath. Why was it so hard? You deserve to be happy, Ophelia's voice echoed in her mind, loud and dominating, and while the girl hesitated out of old habit, she swallowed it down.

"His name was Sitka." She spoke softly, eyes peeking out from behind her dark eyelids. As the memories played upon her mind, she found herself becoming lost amongst them, and for the first time, enjoying them. A small smile played upon her lips, and it spoke of a wistful sorrow that danced along the borders of her memories. "I found him in the Deep Forest, trapped behind a strange gateway, guarded by a laughing raven. I don't even know how I got past him.. I just remember that when I looked into his eyes… we were one." She drifted out of her reverie for a moment, seeking out the stallion's similar gaze. "He was a hellhound.. And he had fire burning down his spine, and when he grew up he had the biggest jaws you've ever seen. Used to scare everyone, though he would never hurt anyone." As she kept speaking, the words flowed more easily. A shadow darkened her face, as she continued her story. "He sung when my father died, a song like you've never heard before."

"He was my everything.. And I never even knew it.. Until he.." her words slowed, and her gaze dropped to her feet. "He died, protecting me." she finally blurted out, amidst a sniffle. "When your soul is so connected to another's.." her tiara dropped down, her nape curving as she bent to wipe her face against the inside of a foreleg.

"Part of me went with him." she finished softly, her voice barely audible, and tainted with the deep shame and sadness that she no longer attempted to swallow and hide away. The girl was spent, unable to lift her head. She stood before him; lifeless, broken and utterly exposed.

sxc.hu | larfsalot