[SWP] modesty, love, care

[Florentine]

i'm a pretty flower girl
check out my pretty flower curls

There was a goose.
 
This was not the first goose that the Terrastellan queen had ever seen, but it was the first one in Novus. For a moment the queen simply stands, observing the silent bird as it drinks in her citadel and its bustling presence.
 
Slowly the flower girl steps on, her eyes peering beneath her fringe to watch the bird. Slowly, slowly its head turns and their eyes meet.
 
Oh there is nothing normal about this avian creature. There is nothing that is not magical in its eyes. Divinity drips from its gaze and dwells in every satin feather.
 
The flower queen is its prize, its target. Florentine knows it now as the bird moves, with a grace beyond any goose she had ever known. It crosses her path like a swan upon water and stops. The fae-girl pauses, a limb lifted, a heart stumbling over a beat. Her neck draws in, her breath fluttering in her nostrils. Into her chest her chin presses, her stature wary, her eyes bright like sun-caught gems.
 
Ever curious, her nape slowly extends. Oh how wide those amethyst eyes are! How curious as she reaches forward with soft lips to scent the air around this unearthly creature. There is ancient magic here. Oh it taste of the Riftland - of a magic both old and new. But there is no corruption here, no fetid black to taint the purity of this ancient power.
 
The bird speaks, and it is with a thousand voices and more – oh so many more! Florentine knows she might travel to the ends of time and still hear that voice echo on for an infinity. Her lips pull away, her chin snapping back into her chest. She shies with eyes wide and wild, though her lips begin to curl.
 
Ah, mysterious creature!
 
A parchment lifts between them and, enraptured, Flora watches the scroll unfurl.
 
A meeting.
 
The fae girl shudders, her petals already tugged loose by a wind that flies ahead of her to Verenor Peak. Those petals will herald her coming.
 
There is silence, for all have heard this voice and all eyes close enough have witnessed the words upon the page. “Why would I hide?” Florentine asks the bird softly, foolishly, for when she will ever not throw herself into mystery and adventure?
 
“My brethren will be there.” And there is no part of her that will renounce such a vow, for how can she, when she thinks that the gods have come at last!
 
But…
 
Will they taste disbelief upon her soul? They will find not even a shred of faith upon this child of Time.
 
She should be repentant… but she is only intrigued.


@Asterion @Cyrene 

florentine
rocking your pretty flower world