the Rift


Flowers Crush So Easily Underfoot [Archibald, Grey? Open]

Nayati Posts: 116
Outcast
Mare :: Equine :: 14.3hh :: four years
Rathunax :: Common Red Dragon :: Shock Breath cailyn
#1








She doesn't know where she is.

It's a thought that has been bouncing around in her head for a while, but she moves south nevertheless. Behind her trail her flowers. No longer are they 'the flowers', no. They are her flowers. Inside, she has started to realize that they are her, too. Not just simple floral arrangements that trail behind her. They look strange within the shadows of...wherever she was. Popping up in a trail of softly swaying ambers, azures, and violets. The light of summer pushed through the looming trees no matter how hard they tried to keep it at bay, and the sunlight danced in flighty patterns over the innocently curled petals. The scent of the ocean was growing stronger, but she didn't dare swerve towards Throat territory. There was plenty peninsula left for a tiny filly like her.

Snowy hooves and skinny legs were a bright contrast to the dark forest floor, a splash of innocence in death and destruction. But was she truly innocent? Nayati felt so incredibly old despite not even being a year, and wondered if it was a bad thing. She'd been unloved from the moment she'd been conceived illegitimately. Kicked around as she kept her mouth firmly shut in silence. Over time, would she have become a mute? It was one of those questions that often pecked at her brain. But no, life had taken a different turn for the spotted cinnamon doll. Instead, Mother had driven her away, leaving the long gash along her side that would remain until she joined the spirit world. Bleeding out, she'd been found by one person. An angel.

Svetlana.

But Svetlana was dead.

It hurt to say that, even in her mind, and dark rose eyes turned pained. Svetlana had been killed, that much Nayati knew from the rumor mill. Mares got awful gossipy, and nobody ever noticed the frail little girl with the too big eyes and scarred body. She was a ghost, and she had learned before she even knew her first word that if she listened and did not speak, she could learn. It wasn't the best way, having no role model to truly guide her, but knowledge was crammed into her head almost desperately. Nayati lived for the moment, taking after Insanity's gruff teachings, because she had always- ever since birth- been unsure of how much time she had on earth. Svetlana seemed so young to her, despite being naught but a child herself. Why had she been ripped so cruelly from the world? Nayati was blind to many things, though not nearly as many as other young souls around her age group. Yet, despite knowing firsthand how cruel the world could be, she could not imagine Svetlana doing anything wrong. Svetlana was her idol, her angel, the woman she had long considered her mother. Telling her that the woman had deserved what she had gotten would receive blatant denial from the tiny gal.

On her way towards the ocean she was surprised to be pulled by her musings by a shimmering ruby color. At first she thought they were flowers, or some group of oddly colored objects, but when she approached the sunlight glinted off the water and made it apparent that it was a pond of some sort. Nayati inched closer, intrigued by the color almost exactly the same shade as her own irises that stared down into the pool. Slowly she lowered herself, flowers slowly springing up around her until she had a bed of them, stretching out around her the longer she remained still. Soft coal muzzle touched the surface of the water, sending out gentle ripples, as if she ached to touch the stones that shared her eye color. Nayati sighed and stared down into the hazy reflection of herself that was barely visible due to the red stones. "Why did you have to die, Svetlana?" She sniffled softly and a single tear went sliding down a soft cheek, dripping off and landing somewhere among her flowers. "Why did you leave me?"





the rose shadows said that they loved the sun, but they also loved the dark, 
where their roots grew through the lightless mystery of the earth. the roses said: you do not have to choose. 


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