the Rift


[OPEN] LIFELESS.

Circe Posts: 101
Deceased
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 5 Buff: NOVICE
M.E.
#2
Circe


There was no reason for Circe to stay outside of her own borders this late; there was no excuse to keep Circe from going home, no matter how hard she searched for one. Her day was done; the work was over. It was time for rest, no matter how heavy her heart sat in her chest. And so, the shadowmere forced herself to angle her body towards her home, her head held low for once, her breath heavy plumes of mists as she snorted.

She looked up briefly, into the whirl of color that was the evening sky, and gave a bitter chuckle in spite of herself. The land was beautiful, in its own way; it was elegant and bewitching, no matter the season. The docile, dying light did not deserve the scorn she gave it; the verdant lands she called home gave her shelter and safety from the shadows that prowled Helovia. They were battled-for and valuable in their own right. It was not the land’s fault that Circe associated those hills and skies with bitter loss and hopeless rage, and yet it was so, and the shadowmere grew increasingly desolate with every step she made towards her home.

Her heart rattled as she walked, pounding with a familiar ache that refused to die with time; Circe walked slower so that the pain wouldn’t overwhelm her. The shadowmere constantly came so close to tears these days; she swallowed the prickling in her throat, willing her resolve to strengthen itself before she properly entered the territory. It destroyed her for others to see the anguish she felt, and so Circe hid it; she strove to lock away the hurt and put a fresh face on for her comrades—they must not see her broken.

It was the scent of another that managed to distract Circe enough to escape her gloom of depression briefly. The aroma was faintly familiar; it scratched at the back of Circe’s memory in an insistent way—she should know this scent. Almost subconsciously, Circe found herself angled toward the scent, supposedly to discover the identity of its owner. It wasn’t long before Circe stumbled upon an unfrozen pond of vibrant azure water. The brown mare who stood there already sparked even more recognition from Circe—the impression of some long lost joke wafted in her mind—but it wasn’t until Circe glanced into the magenta eyes of the lady that she was finally able to place a name upon her partner in arms.

“….Ailith,” Circe stated quietly, her subdued voice filled with acknowledgement. She dipped her head, tentatively reaching with her lips for the water as well, her movements filled with caution. The memory of their last meeting was starting to flood within her mind—and Circe recalled it had not been an amicable one.









Messages In This Thread
LIFELESS. - by Ailith - 06-02-2013, 12:43 PM
RE: LIFELESS. - by Circe - 06-05-2013, 06:00 PM
RE: LIFELESS. - by Ailith - 06-13-2013, 07:49 PM

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