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+---- Thread: [P] There is a lighthouse, five hundred yards down (/showthread.php?tid=6730)
There is a lighthouse, five hundred yards down - Veil Nebula - 10-31-2021
V e i l N e b u l a
Caught up in a palentary world
There was a crispness to the air.
Breathing in, Veil's eyes slid shut, closing off the galactic pink from the world. Her mind was fluttering with half-developed thoughts and emotions, of excitement as hot as a burning supernova, with curiosity to see and explore that shot through her mindscape like a comet passing through the system. Unknown. New. Different. Exciting. While she was beginning to understand more words, her thoughts still consisted mostly of emotions rather than words themselves. Experiences and imagery and connections were made that didn't yet have words assigned to them. It was the same thoughts she got when visiting the other lands. Day always made her imagine Jane's smiling face, the warm of the sun, the spices in the air coating her throat. How Veneror Peak made her think of bitter coldness like deep, deep space, of strength and pain and expanses of ivory.
It was easier for Veil to think with images.
At least for now, while she didn't have the words to support those thoughts. Her wings extended out, and as she opened her eyes, she allowed herself to free fall from the cliffs in Solterra. The rushing of the wind, as she plummeted, star dust swirling around her like a meteor briefly before her smile brightened her features and with a powerful downward thrust, and the angling of her body, she soared. Wings carried her higher, higher through the air. She could feel it growing colder, air growing denser, heavier, oxygen lower, and her eyes narrowed, carrying her further still, trying to break her last 'highest point'.
It was an ongoing challenge, trying to break the atmosphere, break the pull of gravity around her, break out of the planet's hold and return to the stars.
But like every time before.
Every. Single. Time.
She fell back.
The ice that clung to her wings, the way she'd stopped breathing, she'd struggled to climb inch by inch, before she could climb no more. With a heavy sigh of defeat, gravity wrenching at her wings, she angled her body back to the ground, and she let herself . . . fall. She didn't flap a wing, she didn't move a feather, instead she seemed to relax into the embrace of gravity, her eyes watching the sky above her, as the darkness, the clouds whipping past her, growing more blue, brighter as she descended through the air. The fall hurt almost as much as the shock of oxygen to her systems once more. But the star didn't care, her heart was tearing up in disappointment, as she finally let her wings flare, and carry her through the air, rather than plummeting. Catching an updraft she allowed herself to soar, a shooting star as she crossed through spaces between courts.
She wasn't ready to go home defeated.
Instead the star touched down on the mountain range, her gaze dancing through the trees, star dust trailing form her form, creating a wafting cloak that shimmered in the colors of the galaxy painted against her hide. Her galactic gaze glanced around curiously. She'd visited Denocte before, the odd lands calling to her like the silent lure of space yearning her home. She might live in Solterra, but she craved the quiet acceptance of Denocte. But it was the first time in the mountains. She moved with soft, light steps, wings tucking up against her sides, as she wove between the trees, listening to the soft sounds of the animals, birds twittering between the trees, and slowly a smile touched her muzzle.
She might not have made it to space again.
But Veil was slowly falling in love with Novus.
And it hurt less each time she returned to the ground.
FROM THE MOUTH
INSIDE THE MIND
@Alecto
Notes:: So, here's my sweet Veil. The land-bound star haha.
Breathing in, Veil's eyes slid shut, closing off the galactic pink from the world. Her mind was fluttering with half-developed thoughts and emotions, of excitement as hot as a burning supernova, with curiosity to see and explore that shot through her mindscape like a comet passing through the system. Unknown. New. Different. Exciting. While she was beginning to understand more words, her thoughts still consisted mostly of emotions rather than words themselves. Experiences and imagery and connections were made that didn't yet have words assigned to them. It was the same thoughts she got when visiting the other lands. Day always made her imagine Jane's smiling face, the warm of the sun, the spices in the air coating her throat. How Veneror Peak made her think of bitter coldness like deep, deep space, of strength and pain and expanses of ivory.
It was easier for Veil to think with images.
At least for now, while she didn't have the words to support those thoughts. Her wings extended out, and as she opened her eyes, she allowed herself to free fall from the cliffs in Solterra. The rushing of the wind, as she plummeted, star dust swirling around her like a meteor briefly before her smile brightened her features and with a powerful downward thrust, and the angling of her body, she soared. Wings carried her higher, higher through the air. She could feel it growing colder, air growing denser, heavier, oxygen lower, and her eyes narrowed, carrying her further still, trying to break her last 'highest point'.
It was an ongoing challenge, trying to break the atmosphere, break the pull of gravity around her, break out of the planet's hold and return to the stars.
But like every time before.
Every. Single. Time.
She fell back.
The ice that clung to her wings, the way she'd stopped breathing, she'd struggled to climb inch by inch, before she could climb no more. With a heavy sigh of defeat, gravity wrenching at her wings, she angled her body back to the ground, and she let herself . . . fall. She didn't flap a wing, she didn't move a feather, instead she seemed to relax into the embrace of gravity, her eyes watching the sky above her, as the darkness, the clouds whipping past her, growing more blue, brighter as she descended through the air. The fall hurt almost as much as the shock of oxygen to her systems once more. But the star didn't care, her heart was tearing up in disappointment, as she finally let her wings flare, and carry her through the air, rather than plummeting. Catching an updraft she allowed herself to soar, a shooting star as she crossed through spaces between courts.
She wasn't ready to go home defeated.
Instead the star touched down on the mountain range, her gaze dancing through the trees, star dust trailing form her form, creating a wafting cloak that shimmered in the colors of the galaxy painted against her hide. Her galactic gaze glanced around curiously. She'd visited Denocte before, the odd lands calling to her like the silent lure of space yearning her home. She might live in Solterra, but she craved the quiet acceptance of Denocte. But it was the first time in the mountains. She moved with soft, light steps, wings tucking up against her sides, as she wove between the trees, listening to the soft sounds of the animals, birds twittering between the trees, and slowly a smile touched her muzzle.
She might not have made it to space again.
But Veil was slowly falling in love with Novus.
And it hurt less each time she returned to the ground.
FROM THE MOUTH
INSIDE THE MIND
@Alecto
Notes:: So, here's my sweet Veil. The land-bound star haha.
Could you be my super nova girl?
RE: There is a lighthouse, five hundred yards down - Alecto - 11-14-2021
alecto vermillio raptis
✧
W
orlds slip between past and present, times changing fluidly as water dripping down the eaves of the many walls of Denocte and into the streets of celebration and laughter. Days are meant for resting, for planning, for staying out of the eyes of Oriens as he came onto the horizon, avoiding Solis as he took over the day. Only Vespera and Caligo embrace the children of the night. Alecto let the day pass him by, fitfully thinking of his sister, his mother, that terrible Lord that ruled over them both. It was disgusting. And he, still, left as much a mystery as he is a disappointment. These are the hours he is left to think, to wonder, to feel the aching in his bones that both the prince and his sister left behind. It is a sore that neither scabs nor stops its weeping. An open wound untreated.
Toxic.
Deadly.
But Time, does not care for boys with feelings just as he does not truly care for the customs and full culture of Denocte. No matter its magic and power and color, it is not his home. It is not an isle of dragons and wyverns and magic. This place is a house of sticks and stones and crumbling walls.
It is a cage for a heart half-beating.
At some point, the man wakes from his fits and sighs. Washing himself from a basin, he is left alone as he sets out into the early evening light. In the sky, the light burns brightly, fiercely. There are no gentle clouds to soften its glow. No sign of autumn storms come. And yet...it is crisp as he inhales sharply. Any colder and he will surely see his own breath. Home...home...there were always fires burning and people laughing where he stayed. Bodies swayed and smiles were exchanged. Only in the realm of politics and playing god with lives were there snakes whose fangs would bite and eyes would still smile with the same cold light the stars on his skin reflects.
The chill seeps into the blue and the gold of him as he moves further and further from the city. Somewhere behind him, people start to rouse and set their lanterns. Somewhere ahead of him, there is a comet streaking through the sky.
It is a comet until it is not a comet.
He is cast upon a path that winds back and forth, the sawtooth tracks sloping dangerously downhill. One step and he would be gone. Alecto does not misstep. Golden feet carry him until, at last, the man of night and day finds the girl of the cosmos. Behind her is a cape of galaxies spread from wings of darkest night. Opposite. They are not the same. His head inclines, a subtle greeting, as he wonders what a star is doing so far from her skies.
I tasted shadow long before I ever knew the light
RE: There is a lighthouse, five hundred yards down - Veil Nebula - 11-14-2021
V e i l N e b u l a
Caught up in a palentary world
The star dust spread out like a comfort around her.
It was like a portion of home brought with her, where ever she went, and to that, there would be a never-ending sense of relief. That no matter how long the gravity of this rock kept her from rejoining her brothers and sisters in the sky, the star wasn't totally alone. She had something that kept her grounded in her knowledge that she was more, that she wasn't just a wayward horse trying to go about a land-locked life. She was a star. She lived and breathed with her own radioactive combustion within her chest, feeding her body the valuable elements that she needed to stay alive, she needed to exist. Because she was more than just an equine. She was a star too.
And yet, she was still stuck.
She tried not to think about it, not when she could help it. Focusing on something less, or perhaps something more. Jane and the home they were building in the place of the Sun. While Jane was gone, she had been the first appointed 'family' that Veil had ever made on this rock, and that made the mare special. But it was also these things that had Veil feeling more and more lonely. Because she felt lost, she felt confused, she felt like she was trying to balance her way in the world with very little holding her steady. Lost, wayward soul.
She tried to fit in, but it was hard.
She could barely understand the means of communication they used after all. And having few to practice speech with - made it even more difficult. It had her clinging tightly to the few friends, companions; she made because it made that bond so much more feverishly, desperately needed. Because, when it came down to it, the loneliness, the sudden disconnection to the stars and universe, the disappearance of Jane, the sudden constant of being on her own, alone . . . it was making the star so lonely, struggling to shine, starting to fade.
It made her so much more aware of just how alone she was.
A single star trapped on a rock with no others like her. A single star adrift in a black hole. She could almost feel that intense pressure cutting through her body, strangling her, cutting her off from the world. The intense pressure, the pain, as her molecules condense into a smaller, and smaller, and smaller, and smaller bundle. Until there would be nothing left of her, and she's scattered as wayward, uncollected energies through the cosmos. She feared that spiral, to feel any of that again.
It was one of the reasons she wandered so often.
Solterra, while having Jane, having a place to call home, it didn't feel like home. The people were too loud, too vibrant. The sun too hot, the world too bright. It wasn't what she was familiar with, it wasn't what she yearned for She yearned for the cold, darkness of space. The expanding world, with galaxies that dot the horizons like small pinpoints of vibrancy to cut through the icy darkness. That is why her hooves, her wings, so often carried her to Denocte.
It's why she was here now.
She moves between the trees, curious as she explores the mountain range she hadn't been to yet, letting it soothe her thoughts, her mind, her being. Until a flash of gold catches her attention. For a moment she hopes it's Jane, the gold shining off the vein work that would crisscross over her skin like a mosaic. But it's not, there is too much of it, and finally, a stallion comes into view, decked in a mash-up of darkness and light. She stands still, cautious, curious as her gaze roams over him, her wings tucking against her side, head tilting slightly, the pink galaxy eyes gentle, curious. He inclines his head, and it takes her a moment to remember that's the quiet version of the greeting sound, and so she returns it, dipping her head elegantly, her delicate muzzle briefly brushing her own neck, before she offers a kind, a soft smile, innocent and openminded, friendly and naive, "Hello." But the voice is at odds, old, wise, knowing. A voice that speaks of a long time of being alive, but tempered by the naivety of a new form, a new existence as a being she'd not been before.
But the star says nothing else, she falls quiet and she waits.
To see if he'd be a passing meteor, continuing along his way.
Or if he'd stay around and try to talk.
FROM THE MOUTH
INSIDE THE MIND
@Alecto
Notes:: I wont lie, I'm super excited about this haha. Veil needs more friends anyhow.
It was like a portion of home brought with her, where ever she went, and to that, there would be a never-ending sense of relief. That no matter how long the gravity of this rock kept her from rejoining her brothers and sisters in the sky, the star wasn't totally alone. She had something that kept her grounded in her knowledge that she was more, that she wasn't just a wayward horse trying to go about a land-locked life. She was a star. She lived and breathed with her own radioactive combustion within her chest, feeding her body the valuable elements that she needed to stay alive, she needed to exist. Because she was more than just an equine. She was a star too.
And yet, she was still stuck.
She tried not to think about it, not when she could help it. Focusing on something less, or perhaps something more. Jane and the home they were building in the place of the Sun. While Jane was gone, she had been the first appointed 'family' that Veil had ever made on this rock, and that made the mare special. But it was also these things that had Veil feeling more and more lonely. Because she felt lost, she felt confused, she felt like she was trying to balance her way in the world with very little holding her steady. Lost, wayward soul.
She tried to fit in, but it was hard.
She could barely understand the means of communication they used after all. And having few to practice speech with - made it even more difficult. It had her clinging tightly to the few friends, companions; she made because it made that bond so much more feverishly, desperately needed. Because, when it came down to it, the loneliness, the sudden disconnection to the stars and universe, the disappearance of Jane, the sudden constant of being on her own, alone . . . it was making the star so lonely, struggling to shine, starting to fade.
It made her so much more aware of just how alone she was.
A single star trapped on a rock with no others like her. A single star adrift in a black hole. She could almost feel that intense pressure cutting through her body, strangling her, cutting her off from the world. The intense pressure, the pain, as her molecules condense into a smaller, and smaller, and smaller, and smaller bundle. Until there would be nothing left of her, and she's scattered as wayward, uncollected energies through the cosmos. She feared that spiral, to feel any of that again.
It was one of the reasons she wandered so often.
Solterra, while having Jane, having a place to call home, it didn't feel like home. The people were too loud, too vibrant. The sun too hot, the world too bright. It wasn't what she was familiar with, it wasn't what she yearned for She yearned for the cold, darkness of space. The expanding world, with galaxies that dot the horizons like small pinpoints of vibrancy to cut through the icy darkness. That is why her hooves, her wings, so often carried her to Denocte.
It's why she was here now.
She moves between the trees, curious as she explores the mountain range she hadn't been to yet, letting it soothe her thoughts, her mind, her being. Until a flash of gold catches her attention. For a moment she hopes it's Jane, the gold shining off the vein work that would crisscross over her skin like a mosaic. But it's not, there is too much of it, and finally, a stallion comes into view, decked in a mash-up of darkness and light. She stands still, cautious, curious as her gaze roams over him, her wings tucking against her side, head tilting slightly, the pink galaxy eyes gentle, curious. He inclines his head, and it takes her a moment to remember that's the quiet version of the greeting sound, and so she returns it, dipping her head elegantly, her delicate muzzle briefly brushing her own neck, before she offers a kind, a soft smile, innocent and openminded, friendly and naive, "Hello." But the voice is at odds, old, wise, knowing. A voice that speaks of a long time of being alive, but tempered by the naivety of a new form, a new existence as a being she'd not been before.
But the star says nothing else, she falls quiet and she waits.
To see if he'd be a passing meteor, continuing along his way.
Or if he'd stay around and try to talk.
FROM THE MOUTH
INSIDE THE MIND
@Alecto
Notes:: I wont lie, I'm super excited about this haha. Veil needs more friends anyhow.
Could you be my super nova girl?
RE: There is a lighthouse, five hundred yards down - Alecto - 01-23-2022
Wings tuck to sides, skinny and long, as the comet girl settles into an earthly stance and finds him in a sea of trees at last. Her eyes are soft, inviting. They are invigorating and every so different from his own. She waits, curious, and he burns, an echoing of that curiosity flitting through him. This comet reeks of sadness, of that same forlorn feeling that something (someone, somewhere) is missing, missing, missing. Gone – like the time they cannot get back. Gone – like the tides washed back out to sea. Gone – like a past slowing being washed away with every day they are stuck in this land that is not their land, a place that is not their home, not where their heart belongs.
Alecto does not shy away.
Ears tilt forward through the mess of golden hair carefully pinned into a glorious mess beside his horns (they curl too, beautifully), as a single word escapes like an old friend from her lips. Old and new. Young and worn. An anomaly, a mystery, perhaps an almost-mirror of himself were he something strange and foreign and made both more and less sense than smoke and shadows and tricks of the light. At last, though, he steps nearer again. Movements are slow, a stream slipping over forest rocks, making its way sweetly down a mountainside to some great and unknown destination. Everything he does is smooth, and soft, and sweet like the comet that blinks at him again.
At last, oh at last! – the sunlit man, the moonlit man, the darkness and light of him war like the words that would escape. He settles on a simple ”Hello,” instead of something profound and beautiful. She could be something profound and beautiful, he decides. Or, this woman of the night, of the winged bright things left in the night, could be something entirely unamusing and dull. Like a dancer left on their toes, he waits, still as the sky, not even a wobble to give away if he is eager or if he is disinterested. Patience. Patience. It has always coursed through his veins like honey in water given to his sister, his mother, his memories as they die and fade and are crushed beneath the ashes that reality leaves him with.
”You are lovely,” he says laconically, voice both soothing and songlike, something meant for these hours of darkness, meant for nothing of the light to know. After all, in the end, won’t he just be another dream to another being, another mystery in their life that will not be solved for years and years and years, and even then he would remain an open thought, an unasked question.
Alecto does not shy away.
Ears tilt forward through the mess of golden hair carefully pinned into a glorious mess beside his horns (they curl too, beautifully), as a single word escapes like an old friend from her lips. Old and new. Young and worn. An anomaly, a mystery, perhaps an almost-mirror of himself were he something strange and foreign and made both more and less sense than smoke and shadows and tricks of the light. At last, though, he steps nearer again. Movements are slow, a stream slipping over forest rocks, making its way sweetly down a mountainside to some great and unknown destination. Everything he does is smooth, and soft, and sweet like the comet that blinks at him again.
At last, oh at last! – the sunlit man, the moonlit man, the darkness and light of him war like the words that would escape. He settles on a simple ”Hello,” instead of something profound and beautiful. She could be something profound and beautiful, he decides. Or, this woman of the night, of the winged bright things left in the night, could be something entirely unamusing and dull. Like a dancer left on their toes, he waits, still as the sky, not even a wobble to give away if he is eager or if he is disinterested. Patience. Patience. It has always coursed through his veins like honey in water given to his sister, his mother, his memories as they die and fade and are crushed beneath the ashes that reality leaves him with.
”You are lovely,” he says laconically, voice both soothing and songlike, something meant for these hours of darkness, meant for nothing of the light to know. After all, in the end, won’t he just be another dream to another being, another mystery in their life that will not be solved for years and years and years, and even then he would remain an open thought, an unasked question.
RE: There is a lighthouse, five hundred yards down - Veil Nebula - 03-05-2022
V e i l N e b u l a
Caught up in a palentary world
The star gazed curiously at this being.
Her wings tucked close, her gaze kind as she looks up curiously of the stallion of dueling factions. Of day, of night, tangling over his coat like he's losses between two worlds . . . or perhaps she just wishes someone to understand her. He meets her gaze, even as she is curiously watching him, the color of the galaxies trailing from her mane and tail, slowly coaxing the floor between them to grow sparkly with the universe she brings with her where ever she goes, the closest she could ever get to home.
His ears tilt, catching the greeting from her lips.
The cosmic lady can see him working around the sound. Judging it, weighing it. Deeming its worth from her voice and tone, and the word she uses. A fragile flower waiting to see if she makes the cut for the bouquet. Or if she'll be tossed aside as imperfect. How odd for a star to feel imperfect? He draws nearer, and she tilts her head to the side, the stars with in her gaze glittering brightly as he is watched closely - until he finally greets her. Echoing back her hello, and instantly her smile blossoms beautifully across her face, the stars trapped in her eyes glimmering like the cosmos come alive. As if the one acknowledge has breathed life back into a dying nebula.
Her gaze is warm, beautiful, sincere.
His words come again, and while they hold little meaning, the universe whispers to it's lost daughter, filling her mind with images and senses. Softness, admiration. Pink and White and Warmth. A new flower budding in spring. The yawn of a tiny kitten. A beautiful gem sparkling in the light. Admiration, yes. Admiration. She ducks her head, shy and demure the man whose built is the war of nature. Dark and Light, day and night, sun and moon. As if he, himself, holds the universe upon his built. Balanced. Thank you. She replies, her own voice the age of time past, the ageless ness of time not yet to come. She glances back up at him - direct and kind, before her gaze sweeps over him, curious, intrigued. Night, and day. She muses, before her gaze returns to his, Which are you?" She questions lightly, curiously - a touch of play in her voice for a being she perceives to be more like she, than any other equine on this world.
Mayhaps not a star.
But close enough to be close enough.
FROM THE MOUTH
INSIDE THE MIND
@Alecto
Notes:: I wont lie, I'm super excited about this haha. Veil needs more friends anyhow.
Could you be my super nova girl?
RE: There is a lighthouse, five hundred yards down - Alecto - 03-28-2022
At even the faintest whisper of a returned greeting she smiles, and he wonders how that innocence has not been lost to the world and its wicked ways. Such sweetness, saccharine and near-sickening, but not quite, sit prettily upon her dark face. In the night, she is a storm of starlight with that smile, drawing wayward and weary souls near so they might find respite for even the briefest of moments. But he is not tired, and he needs no rest, so he does not lay down his head and roll over, allowing time to pass him by again.
Alecto offers his own grin up to the world.
And it is soft.
And it is sad.
And it is a world of stories unspoken.
And no one ever really reads it true.
So he speaks again, and she ponders the meaning. Uninterrupted, the stallion lets her thoughts float into the cosmos and that more mundane, all the while guessing and spinning and reweaving his image of this woman. Gasps of galaxies still reach out from under her tucked wings, begging to be let loose. What sort of powers she must hold? What life she has lived to breathe life into that which was cold and distant. But she is neither cold nor distant with the gentility dripping from her very bones.
There might be a spine in there somewhere, but if there is, Veil Nebula does not show it.
The iron heart of a star, the core of a collapsing being, has yet to settle into the fibre of her bone and being. And he simply laughs, soft and dark, when she questions what he is. “What would you have me as?” He counters because he has never been night or day. No. Perhaps that is a lie.
As a boy, perhaps, he had been the sun. Brilliant and burning and ready to collapse. The light that entered the room, the apple of his dear mother’s eye. He’d shone brilliantly when he’d wished for nothing more than to make his family proud.
But those days are gone and he fell into shadow, becoming nothing but a memory of that glistening being. An echo of an echo, that which is left in the shadow to lurk and be lost to time.
Perhaps, Alecto does not know much of what he is anymore other than he simply is. “And you? Are you the night itself breathed to life?”
Alecto offers his own grin up to the world.
And it is soft.
And it is sad.
And it is a world of stories unspoken.
And no one ever really reads it true.
So he speaks again, and she ponders the meaning. Uninterrupted, the stallion lets her thoughts float into the cosmos and that more mundane, all the while guessing and spinning and reweaving his image of this woman. Gasps of galaxies still reach out from under her tucked wings, begging to be let loose. What sort of powers she must hold? What life she has lived to breathe life into that which was cold and distant. But she is neither cold nor distant with the gentility dripping from her very bones.
There might be a spine in there somewhere, but if there is, Veil Nebula does not show it.
The iron heart of a star, the core of a collapsing being, has yet to settle into the fibre of her bone and being. And he simply laughs, soft and dark, when she questions what he is. “What would you have me as?” He counters because he has never been night or day. No. Perhaps that is a lie.
As a boy, perhaps, he had been the sun. Brilliant and burning and ready to collapse. The light that entered the room, the apple of his dear mother’s eye. He’d shone brilliantly when he’d wished for nothing more than to make his family proud.
But those days are gone and he fell into shadow, becoming nothing but a memory of that glistening being. An echo of an echo, that which is left in the shadow to lurk and be lost to time.
Perhaps, Alecto does not know much of what he is anymore other than he simply is. “And you? Are you the night itself breathed to life?”
I love them QuQ
RE: There is a lighthouse, five hundred yards down - Veil Nebula - 04-09-2022
V e i l N e b u l a
Caught up in a palentary world
the star feels that curiosity building, as it's threaded through the spinning wheel, and being created into something softer, gentle inquiries and soft words. Emotion giving birth to communication - what little words she had of it to offer forth. So she tilts her head, she smiles softly; curious to learn, wise enough to take what she learns with caution. A being both new, and old, ancient and fresh. A melody of opposites that is reflected in the fellow's coat. The collision of atoms as old as time, fusing together into a body as new as first snow in winter.
The conversation is slow, led by her having to carefully consider meanings, what words mean even as he seems to watch her, and the cosmos that float around her, wayward stardust that sprinkles through the air to linger at her hooves. Is is the softness, the nurturing of a Nebula still, as her star shines from with in, brightening her countenance to all who meet, coming into focus, coming into spirit slowly. He asks what she would have him as, and smile; a flicker of amusement at his question, Yourself. She answers simply. It's one word, but inside her mind, her heart, there is a plethora of meanings. The way the universe intended him to be. Unmolded by pain, or suffrage; his actions and words undictated by the way he was forced to be raised, the way that it may have altered who he was supposed to be. But rather the being he was intended. His pelt shows both day or night; whether he was meant to be brightness or a shade is unknown - perhaps he was intended a path in the middle. A path of balance.
Or, perhaps - like herself; he has forgotten what he was meant to be. He then asks of her, and she pauses, thoughtful. Who was she. The night. The stars. Her gaze turns, towards the cosmos that hold all the answers, yet remain far away, A fallen star. She responds, and there's something lost to her tone, a sort of homesickness that has her heart yearning for the heavens. Her gaze turns slowly to him, and the fallen nebula no longer smiles, her gaze is simply soft, but there's shadows in that rose-tinted gaze, like the imprint of the black hole that had consumed her so long ago. Not sure, not anymore.
FROM THE MOUTH
INSIDE THE MIND
@Alecto
Notes:: I adore him. So much <3 <3
Could you be my super nova girl?