CYRENE .
per aspera ad astra
If you'll be my star
I'll be your sky
- ~ -
She saved the fields for last.
As silly as it seemed, Susurro Fields was special to her—for it had been where Terrastella had welcomed Cyrene with a soft embrace. Her, a broken girl with a broken heart who pretended to be so selfless, who dazzled with a starlight smile and vanished with a fleeting caress. Cyrene was not selfless. Maybe, she was doing it all out of spite, out of pity—if I save these poor creatures, it would mend my own soul. A misplaced sense of valor, perhaps. She wasn’t sure, one never could be with concerns of the heart; but in the depths of her own, a darkness lingered. That she was certain of.
Sable curls weighed heavily upon the girl’s flower-strewn crown. Gently, she touched the golden vial and single grey feather that remained always around her neck. After parting ways with the dove-coated boy, Saoirse, who had reminded her so much of Cygnus with his demure manners and quicksilver feathers, the gravity of the Earth all at once dragged her down into its murky depths. It had always made an exception for her, for the nymph who glided across the dew-soaked grass with an effortless grace bestowed upon nimble hooves. Yet now…
She traipsed soundlessly through the thin blanket of snow coating the gentle swells of the lantern-lit meadow. Inhaling deeply, the scent of sweet liquor and roasted chestnuts filled every pore of her body—and along with it, just as strong, the stench of woodsmoke. Even now, when Cyrene had smelled it all throughout the night, she still breathed it out as quickly as she drew it in. You must stop dwelling upon what has already happened, she sighed. Shaking her head sharply, the girl walked passed the sparkling liquors (she was not fond of alcohol’s bitter tang) and towards the stall where honeyed chestnuts roasted merrily on a soft flame."I’ll take four, please,” and she smiled merrily at the vendor who swiftly handed her a steaming pouch of sweet, golden-brown chestnuts.
Avoiding the crowds gathered around the massive bonfires, Cyrene picked her way delicately towards a more open stretch of land, where only a few others lingered. Amber eyes floated towards a fallen tree a few paces ahead, only lightly dusted with snow. Its trunk makes for a perfect seat to sit and enjoy the upcoming aurora, she mused, and she made a beeline for it in case anyone else reached the same conclusion. The tail end of the trunk was hidden in shadow, and Cyrene paid no mind to it as she perched lightly upon the other end, gilded wings stretched open behind her.
A wisp of steam drifted from her aromatic treat, and she deftly popped one into her mouth, a small wince slipping past her lips as it burned her tongue."How delicious!” she murmured, marveling at the saccharine snack as rosy lips upturned into a sylphlike grin. "Yet food tastes sweeter in the company of another.”
So absorbed was she in her cuisine, that Cyrene failed to notice the soft glint of a golden eye, the smooth satin of a metallic body as he lay, silent, at the other end of the log. It seemed she had company after all.
I'll be your sky
- ~ -
She saved the fields for last.
As silly as it seemed, Susurro Fields was special to her—for it had been where Terrastella had welcomed Cyrene with a soft embrace. Her, a broken girl with a broken heart who pretended to be so selfless, who dazzled with a starlight smile and vanished with a fleeting caress. Cyrene was not selfless. Maybe, she was doing it all out of spite, out of pity—if I save these poor creatures, it would mend my own soul. A misplaced sense of valor, perhaps. She wasn’t sure, one never could be with concerns of the heart; but in the depths of her own, a darkness lingered. That she was certain of.
Sable curls weighed heavily upon the girl’s flower-strewn crown. Gently, she touched the golden vial and single grey feather that remained always around her neck. After parting ways with the dove-coated boy, Saoirse, who had reminded her so much of Cygnus with his demure manners and quicksilver feathers, the gravity of the Earth all at once dragged her down into its murky depths. It had always made an exception for her, for the nymph who glided across the dew-soaked grass with an effortless grace bestowed upon nimble hooves. Yet now…
She traipsed soundlessly through the thin blanket of snow coating the gentle swells of the lantern-lit meadow. Inhaling deeply, the scent of sweet liquor and roasted chestnuts filled every pore of her body—and along with it, just as strong, the stench of woodsmoke. Even now, when Cyrene had smelled it all throughout the night, she still breathed it out as quickly as she drew it in. You must stop dwelling upon what has already happened, she sighed. Shaking her head sharply, the girl walked passed the sparkling liquors (she was not fond of alcohol’s bitter tang) and towards the stall where honeyed chestnuts roasted merrily on a soft flame.
Avoiding the crowds gathered around the massive bonfires, Cyrene picked her way delicately towards a more open stretch of land, where only a few others lingered. Amber eyes floated towards a fallen tree a few paces ahead, only lightly dusted with snow. Its trunk makes for a perfect seat to sit and enjoy the upcoming aurora, she mused, and she made a beeline for it in case anyone else reached the same conclusion. The tail end of the trunk was hidden in shadow, and Cyrene paid no mind to it as she perched lightly upon the other end, gilded wings stretched open behind her.
A wisp of steam drifted from her aromatic treat, and she deftly popped one into her mouth, a small wince slipping past her lips as it burned her tongue.
So absorbed was she in her cuisine, that Cyrene failed to notice the soft glint of a golden eye, the smooth satin of a metallic body as he lay, silent, at the other end of the log. It seemed she had company after all.
@Velorca | notes: hope lorca likes sweets <3
