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04-04-2016, 12:50 PM
I’m glad to have distracted her from the Nightwalk, and the thoughts that lay in those memories, having seen the light in her eyes that meant she thought it all quite interesting (intriguing, on any day but today). I didn’t know her well enough to show her the weaker facets of myself yet, being the sort of fellow who believes in stoicism, and bravery, that men are men, made of steel and stone. That I fall short of this ideal, that pretty much everyone (except maybe Deimos) seems to, does not deter me from trying to deny the heat of the blood flowing through my body. That she calls my story one of nobility makes my insides hum with pleasure, my golden eyes lighting up with delight as my neck deepens its arch, my figure very visibly angling towards her (her seeming distraction is probably a good thing). Still, my piqued interest in what she has to say delivers a backhand, as happens more often than I’d like, my friendly face becoming a consolatory frown that somewhat understands the loss of a mother, and which reveals the softness of my heart towards those I call my family. The thought of either of my parents dying is unpleasant, to say the least… and she seems to be taking it in stride, almost as if there is not a hole weeping in her heart, as surely there is. While my mother is not dead, she certainly is not here, either – and Sjal said nothing of a father. I’m smart enough to assume a few things about that. "Do you believe in realms beyond this one? Like, other worlds, not just kingdoms," I ask, after some time, and a small sigh of submission to the small voice within (steel and stone, steel and stone). While I don’t want to talk about the Nightwalk, I’d rather talk about a place that had been a haven to me than to dwell in this dark silence. Besides, the Starpool is likely the most interesting thing I’ve ever seen, besides, perhaps, being in the presence of Gods – and if it can’t get her mind off depressing things, I don’t know what else will. |
@Sjal
