M A R E N - By the precepts of her purity -
Like crystals they gleamed, shredding mouthfuls of ashes into the air and her dusty mind. But they were soundless and held nothing in their silence for her eyes to see. Brightness flickered in her lit up eyes, reflecting nostalgia and an awaiting patience as she felt her disturbed thoughts soften and melt away the longer she stood. The flames danced. Wild and liquid and bright and only ever equal in the movements off their shadows, so easily lost. Just like her, perhaps — if it hadn't been for the warmth of the flames that embraced her in their divinity from the claws of an icy winter wind.
Maren stood silent as a statue as the smoke in the air cringed up above and around her. Only her long soft mane fell into the tangles of the winds. Then, suddenly a sound reached her from away and the diviner fell out of her meditation. With the irritation not showing on her face — but cringing like snakes under her skin — she turned around to see who's voice had so sound-fully greeted the uneasy being she was at the moment.
On her retina still dripped the heart of the flames, even though she had moved her eyes away from them. Still, she hadn't tried to blink them away immediately as his voice resounded in her ears again. After the candles before her eyes slowly faded she now noticed the contrasting unicorn-figure of Sacre against the stark and grey hued supposed-to-be-desert background. But she felt her irritation and frustration sink away a little bit by the sight of her kin, but still felt a weight pressing on her. She didn't feel like moving away from the (her) fire, for the sting of rudeness that had come from him from thoughtlessly disturbing her, hadn't stopped tickling her insides. Which explained why her winter-fluffed alabaster ears were also still hanging a bit to the sides; not entirely inviting. Burgundy shaded, golden flickering eyes but forever silent wandering in search for his.
"Sacre", she said, a bit sweeter and welcoming than she felt. But there was this icy voice in her head that told her she wanted him to leave; a thought completely in stride with one of her New Principles (caring), so she shot the Bird of hate dead from the skies of her complicated mind and rebelliously turned the corners of her lips upwards.
Feeling the words on her lips, she almost asked if he needed something, like she would've any other day, but today was different. Today she didn't really wanted him to need anything from her, so she refused to ask. However, as his following question stung her for a second time, a frown appeared around her eyes.
What am I doing...? It was such a weird question to be asked, for it made so much sense to her; what she was doing — what her life consisted of. She glanced at his blue-blue eyes from under her thick lashes and blew out a thoughtful cloud of mist as she wondered how he would like his question to be answered. "I am worshiping our God, waiting for messages, visions He wishes to show me — or not." The tigermare waited for a bit as she watched the cloud of mist leaving her nose evaporate slowly. Her head felt lightheaded from the smoke she had inhaled. "Meditating," she finally decided to add a bit vaguely and in a softer voice, just in case the mention of the Gods would upset the stallion. As if the one word would also evaporate all she had said before. These times were, after all, questionable ones for those not certain of their path of belief; their place in faith. But she was interested in his opinion, his reaction — would there be one.
She took a breath of fresh air to hopefully get rid of the lightheadedness as she stepped out of the circle of warmth, smoke; letting go of the embrace. "Like I said then, bringing you home was simply one of my duties," she added shushing his could-be guilt. But suddenly she felt a rush of... awkwardness, talking to him, something she couldn't explain. Is my rainfall of troubled thoughts showing on my face, she thought, for a moment shocked, deepening the grooves in the frown hooding her eyes.
Then again, perhaps it wasn't her. The mare looked up at the stallion from her inner chaos as she tilted her head a tiny bit. "Are you alright?" The diviner questioned, not a doctor.
@[Sacre]
Notes: Yesss :D sorry it took so long, was on vacation! Poor timing ^^" |
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
