[AW] deep thoughts

[Lyra]

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The world had transformed before her. From the brief kiss of the sun, to the darkness, the night taking claim to the sky – and with it, the risen moon. The mare couldn’t tell who or what she enjoyed more, the warmth of the day-sun or the stillness of the night? The cool touch of silver light, to the harsh and penetrating heat of the sun? A small smile curled her dark lips as she pushed further, onwards to the keep ahead. Even in these dark and trying times for the court she had grown to love deeply for, Lyra still found beauty here. So much more different than the homeland she had been born into, the lands there often decaying with death and war. The very idea of a conflict coming here left her afraid..but not the cowardly afraid as she might have been long ago. No..afraid of the beauty and family she had made here to be forever lost.

But that had been then, in the land without sustenance. Where all beasts, equine alike, fought and clamored for all and everything; like a poison, infecting the very soil with their blood – cursing the earth with dry and unfertile ground. Where brother and kin laid waste to the eternal churning of a doomed world. And that of a world where she had left behind a precious gift, a regret she carried with her for all of her days. She hoped her child was alright wherever her daughter might be.

It brought an uneasy sigh to her lips; too worn, too tired to delve in the past. Despite what information she had been given on her travels, there was an unyielding sense of doom at her back. Lyra was unsure if the feeling would pass, but the sight of her new home eased the anxious stir inside of her chest. The stone of the keep appeared to glow with the moon just ahead, showering the structure with a welcoming aura.

The sight itself was incredibly foreign and magical for the young woman, yet not so since this was her home now. As a child she could only afford mere glimpses into worlds harboring massive columns, smooth stone and archways. Reliant on the song’s archaic tongues riddled behind ancient stories – straining to bear some truth amidst the clumsy changes of each age. Her childish fantasy did not compare to the real thing.

Her bright, silver eyes had not yet found any others in the vicinity. Spurred on by the ethereal sight, for the keep was not only wonderfully crafted; it was alive with lush foliage. Lyra held her breath for a moment as she passed the entrance. The sound of her hooves, cascading from the solid mass of marble – or perhaps some other stone – as she wandered aimlessly into the keep. Her thoughts wandered to the last few days, the gates closing, the court meeting. It was all..very stressful to say the least. A soft sigh left her lips, the court was divided and as champion she felt such pressure to bring it back together. And she didn't know how.

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ooc tags go here!

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[Moira]

M O I R A

she looks into her mirror,
wishing someone could hear her, so loud

Closed. Trapped. Stuck.

Large gates, larger than life and death itself, had been drawn shut, tightly sealed when she'd come back to them. Only upon confirmation that the phoenix belongs within the walls of Denocte was she allowed in, and now that she is once more in the palm of her court she does not know what to do. A taste for adventure lodged itself in her throat when she met Asterion, and then Thorvald, and even Eik. How long would she be left within the walls of the Night Court?

But how many have you neglected to meet, she berates herself silently, stern enough that she knows her aunt would be proud and the reprimand.

So she walks through the streets of Denocte when others are about, throngs of citizens swarming in the common areas in garbs as dark as their sky they were now under. It is here she sees the woman made of starlight and night sky, born of blue and white that cling to every slender and sloping curve until Mo is lost in the beauty of the woman completely. There is nothing of the silver outside of eyes that are so much like Caine's (but kinder) to remind her of the Tonnerre clan. Estelle is off her mind, something that usually weighs the woman down into a sort of somber mood that does not allow her to walk freely among those so like her and yet not.

But today... She is not distracted by the noise or stalls within the market, she is not pulled from her contentment by the hustle and bustle (well, not really). It is the calmness of the blue woman, stuck in some other place where her own thoughts reign supreme, that distracts the phoenix woman from the beauty that the Court has to offer. Approaching on light feet, the caretaker stops short of the blue woman. "You're Lyra, right?" she asks, her words as soft as starlight, "I'm Moira, Moira Tonnerre." It is a simple introduction, something a sweet and simple as the women - one of night, one of day, both heartbreakingly beautiful side by side as though the heavens themselves were meeting in the middle.

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@Lyra I'm so happy for these two to meet finally !

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[Lyra]

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Lyra had been so caught up in her own thoughts on the meeting and the gates being closed that she did not hear anyone approach her. Not until a single voice reached her ears and caused the silver eyed woman to look towards the flame and sun kissed woman before her. She did not know her well, though she remembered seeing her in passing no doubt slipping through the cracks with so much else going on. She said her name as an introduction and Lyra remembered to place a smile over her dark lips.

"Yes I am Lyra. It is a pleasure to meet you, Moira." She replied softly as she gazed upon the woman, gentle and kind as she always was no matter how stressed or worried she might be. She never let it show, not to anyone. "Was there something you needed, Moira?" The starlit woman questioned with a slight head tilt to the side, wondering if Moira was as concerned about the gates as she was. Or worse..angry. Not that Lyra could blame anyone for being angry or being upset at all during this, but she had faith that the Reichenbach and the rest of the regime knew what they were doing. In the meantime she would just try her best to keep the peace.

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@Moira so sorry for the short post! Slowly getting muse back <3

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[Moira]

M O I R A

she looks into her mirror,
wishing someone could hear her, so loud

All holds its breath for a mere moment before the spell is broken. Shattered like stained glass windows at Christmas when religion and hope is lost, falling to the floor about them and dissipating as though it never was there. Lyra is a kind woman, the type to offer you a warm place to rest and biscuits by the fire. A ready pot of tea always at hand. As soft as her demeanor is, Moira cannot help but notice the worry.

Lines are around Lyra's silver eyes, lines that show stress and worry over problems that the woman should not know. Sympathy almost washes through the phoenix girl, but it does not. Lyra, for all that Moira has heard from her shadows, for all she's adored from afar, is still a stranger before her. Beautiful and as distant as the stars in the sky. "Oh, no. I just thought I would meet Denocte's Champion of Community at last. Going around to see what there is to see," with a pale shrug, she looks to the ground. Flashing between here and when her mind was more made up, Moira almost regrets her decision to come.

I should not be here, she thinks mournfully. "The pleasure is mine, miss Lyra." Calm as a winter day, she speaks softly lest others should be listening. With the gates closed, Moira has noticed quite unhappily, there is nothing better to do than meddle in another's affairs.

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@Lyra this is smol. i apologize ;-;

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