[P] without you i am a lie

[Sabine]

sad birds still sing

The prickling sensation of his gaze upon her skin sent skeletal shivers down her ribs, for it felt as though he were truly seeing her this time. Sabine shimmered silently beneath the prismatic severance of light overhead, her horns refracting the arcing colours over and over again - back and forth in the chasm between man and girl. She had never wanted much; never hungered long into the night for a dream that wouldn't come, or a light that had never shined, but that was before she knew what Acton's friendship felt like - and so, then, she felt that planted seed begin to grow. And who was she to stunt it. Beauty came in many and forms, and to this little summer-eyed child, it was born in the hot gravel of a magician's jest - gilded in the knowledge that, in such a virginal moment, he had meant it just for her. Wasn't that the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen?

The sound of his hooves against the glowing meadowgrass kissed her ears, gently enough to wake her once more from the eternal musings of an artist; for Sabine was yet to realise her own gifts, her purpose and idiosyncrasies - she was a painter without a brush.The petals of her imagined-daisy spun beneath Acton's balmy breath, and she bounced happily (albeit awkwardly) away from his strong coursing shoulder, a breeze travelling through spiralling caramel locks. Partner. Her sparrow-heart sailed; somersaulting into golden orbit. "If you're game, so am I," she breathed, feeling the start of a candycane smile on her lips, "last one there is a rotten Teyr egg."

@acton fin!