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01-13-2016, 07:41 AM
Lena I'm buried and covered peaceful under millions of stars
They rise with the dawn, when the first dabbling of morning song ruffled past their cavern. It floated on a sweet, dulcet whim, and Lena’s ears curved and tilted to hear the hallelujahs and salutations drifting amidst the Orangemoon grandeur – peeking from the aperture and gazing towards the horizon. At the rustle of birds and the hint of promise, at the taffeta-strewn sound of wings and the dazzling of sights, the two rose from their evening repose, stretching, yawning, and grinning despite the layer of cold surrounding their dimming fire. Perhaps today would be different, lively and ebullient, exuberant and kind. Maybe they wouldn’t see the wounds of yesterday’s spars, the hunt by predacious men, or the rime turn to treachery. It was like a covenant, oath bound and charitable, cherishing the wild halls of their perilous wake, of their gleaming palisade, of their ancient, stony castle – the fairy and fox poked their heads out of the catacombs and wandered into the midst and mist. Their sojourns were of no particular consequence – they may have traversed up and down the rolling hills, the snow-capped peaks, for company, for nomadic bounties, for some illustrious enterprise; the day was theirs, beckoning and cajoling. They roamed along pebbled paths and stony walkways, carefully gliding across ice and glaciers, just as elegant, just as refined, just as determined and resolute with naught else in mind but the speckle of something great, something grand spinning out of reach. Lena was embedded with too much fey to not be delighted by the prospect of something unknown kindled across her mind, had absorbed too much curiosity in her time spent amongst runes, labyrinths, and enigmas, and so the two dove into the meticulous creation of inquiry and interest, eyeing the landscape and the shifting forms ahead. She knew three very well – and as they grew closer, smiling and grinning, captivating and enriching, storming the sanctity with their own defiant radiance, a honeysuckle whim, amiable compassion – the seraph and her companion dipped their heads in greeting. “Good morning!” Her eyes swept over the frames and figures of Tangere, Rexanna and her growing, widening belly (and this even earned a wider smile; because there was more promise burrowed and buried here), and Mortuus Nox, coated in black but not layered by demons. To another, seemingly nearing their trail, she called out a brief salutation (she didn’t recognize the beast, but there were always bound to be those she didn’t know or recall). “Hello!” Swinging her head back towards the growing group, her eyes narrowed at the tended grounds, yearning, itching, craving to be of some use to those already nestled with a plan. What was to be built here? How would it serve their empire? How would it christen and anoint even more strength in the brilliant, untamed, and savage sovereign? The gentle nuance of her gaze fell to Tangere, smile still beatific and all encompassing; glowing from the patchwork of fading stars and morning light. “Is there anyway I can help?” |
