AISLINN
SHE TASTES LIKE MOONBEAMS AND LAVENDER
The trek from the blood-soaked Steppe had been long and sweltering, but it did not compare to the ache of her bleeding heart thrumming in her chest. She had made the mistake once before for not receiving treatment after sparring; a shudder rippling down her spine as she remembered crashing into the earth, her wings barely saved from the fall. Her heart bled as longing flooded her, her memories haunting her with her king's phantom kiss — a feather-soft promise as his lips brushed the wound on her wing — before ripping her feelings into shreds. She was not as strong as everyone believed her to be, it would seem. No longer a warrior-gypsy of the ancient Rahilah, no longer the tribe's chosen Maiden, or the king's Champion of Battle. Aislinn was a ragdoll with missing limbs; her heart torn and held loosely together with makeshift strings.
Her heartache a tangible beast she sought out to tame, Aislinn had found herself asking for trouble on the Steppe; her call answered by another soldier searching for bruises and torn knuckles. Now, hours later she stumbled into the Court's hospital wing in the wee moments before daybreak. She was not the kind to ask for help often, but she did know the true value of healers; for her tribe was home to many, gifted warriors and caretakers and musicians alike.
Wincing, she limped through the shadows, night still clinging at the corners and edges of the large room. The scrape running the length down her spine between her wings was slowly trickling warm blood down her belly, dripping on the floor as she walked. Her shoulder screamed with each step, most definitely bruised, but it was not just the physical wounds that had the stormsinger asking for help. Her heart thundered in her chest, choking her lungs out of air. She was positive it must be bleeding and broken.. for there was no other explanation for the ache that tightened her throat and robbed her of oxygen.
Aislinn collapsed on one of the rectangular beds, her legs giving out underneath her as she fell. A groan escaped her lips, crying out softly into the lightening darkness, praying one of the healers had heard her.
@seree here you go darling! <3
SHE TASTES LIKE MOONBEAMS AND LAVENDER
The trek from the blood-soaked Steppe had been long and sweltering, but it did not compare to the ache of her bleeding heart thrumming in her chest. She had made the mistake once before for not receiving treatment after sparring; a shudder rippling down her spine as she remembered crashing into the earth, her wings barely saved from the fall. Her heart bled as longing flooded her, her memories haunting her with her king's phantom kiss — a feather-soft promise as his lips brushed the wound on her wing — before ripping her feelings into shreds. She was not as strong as everyone believed her to be, it would seem. No longer a warrior-gypsy of the ancient Rahilah, no longer the tribe's chosen Maiden, or the king's Champion of Battle. Aislinn was a ragdoll with missing limbs; her heart torn and held loosely together with makeshift strings.
Her heartache a tangible beast she sought out to tame, Aislinn had found herself asking for trouble on the Steppe; her call answered by another soldier searching for bruises and torn knuckles. Now, hours later she stumbled into the Court's hospital wing in the wee moments before daybreak. She was not the kind to ask for help often, but she did know the true value of healers; for her tribe was home to many, gifted warriors and caretakers and musicians alike.
Wincing, she limped through the shadows, night still clinging at the corners and edges of the large room. The scrape running the length down her spine between her wings was slowly trickling warm blood down her belly, dripping on the floor as she walked. Her shoulder screamed with each step, most definitely bruised, but it was not just the physical wounds that had the stormsinger asking for help. Her heart thundered in her chest, choking her lungs out of air. She was positive it must be bleeding and broken.. for there was no other explanation for the ache that tightened her throat and robbed her of oxygen.
Aislinn collapsed on one of the rectangular beds, her legs giving out underneath her as she fell. A groan escaped her lips, crying out softly into the lightening darkness, praying one of the healers had heard her.
@seree here you go darling! <3
