You were my halogen, guiding me home
My only weapon when I was alone
She was there. Air blossomed thin like fine frost between the creams and blues. A feral wind blew firmly against a body once chiseled from the ice itself, then finding little alleviation in solitary stance on the mountain peak. The sun bothered not to send a cordial farewell as its diminishing frame fell from sight—dusk would climb and take influence of the mantel they had given themselves to. Then with the fading light she would dredge way to a place she had long abandoned; her path was ruin, and despair wrote itself in the mountain side. The supposed-great Winter Wolf, heir of a Court she turned away for a cause more worthy than a throne, reduced to rubble. A Painted Queen, a sovereign to a home she found solace in, a family she belonged to more rightfully than her own, all cast away at her inability to uphold their values. The shrine brushed with ageless beauty and a power she could feel long before she reached their dwelling scarcely invited her to its footing, but she was a fool before so who was she to be any different now.
A breath, and a pause. Four steps forward, and a pause. Two breaths, a pause. One step, a word. A name. "Vespera." Desperation hung heavier than her cloak of wolf fur, each syllable a fine line she dared to whisper across. There was no glory in her quiet call, no pride in the stars she wore; her cape drug, and a head once high with a crown did not rise above knees hesitant to keep hold of the weight they bore. She was not worthy of the place she stood. She did not deserve the chance to utter the name of a Goddess, once one she carried so proudly for a kingdom. It was thrown away, her crown. Her pride. Her loyalty. She was stripped of all honor, all she held close given to a girl not nearly ready for the constrains of being shackled to such burden. She did it without heart and in return she fled to the confines of a place of her past; a land so bitter with cold that she finally felt the bite of life crawl beneath her skin and shame her for her actions. Aerus, a brother long-forgotten upon the seat of a home she held little connection to, welcomed the previous Heir of their Hiemsterra Court as cordially as any guest. Then with the death of her parents she no longer felt the pull to her birthplace. She left it, too, sitting behind while hooves marked their way back across snowy-scapes; Máni stood with her unfalteringly, and between them a child was born.
Go away, the urge to turn and abandon the Gods—her God—caused motion to cease for good before she could even press her nose to the face of Vespera's perch. She didn't belong there, not just there where the trail thinned and the air stung from lack of oxygen mixed with the bite of almost-winter tips, but the place she let go of when she called for arms and the Kingdoms were moving together into a real semblance of a nation. There was nothing she could do then, and there was nothing she could do there where she barely stood before the might of the Gods. She worried that her time had passed, that all she could offer was laying behind her in a heap at the foot of the Dusk's stone tower.
Legs finally buckled beneath the weight of humiliation, guilt pulling her down toward gravity's lips. And she was left to beg, body collapsed with appendages beneath, beg for forgiveness from the deity she swore her life to. A forsaken tear—perhaps the only thing she had ever cried—dripped on the ground of the altar, a stain on the shrine that only she would know was carved into its surface.
A breath, and a pause. Four steps forward, and a pause. Two breaths, a pause. One step, a word. A name. "Vespera." Desperation hung heavier than her cloak of wolf fur, each syllable a fine line she dared to whisper across. There was no glory in her quiet call, no pride in the stars she wore; her cape drug, and a head once high with a crown did not rise above knees hesitant to keep hold of the weight they bore. She was not worthy of the place she stood. She did not deserve the chance to utter the name of a Goddess, once one she carried so proudly for a kingdom. It was thrown away, her crown. Her pride. Her loyalty. She was stripped of all honor, all she held close given to a girl not nearly ready for the constrains of being shackled to such burden. She did it without heart and in return she fled to the confines of a place of her past; a land so bitter with cold that she finally felt the bite of life crawl beneath her skin and shame her for her actions. Aerus, a brother long-forgotten upon the seat of a home she held little connection to, welcomed the previous Heir of their Hiemsterra Court as cordially as any guest. Then with the death of her parents she no longer felt the pull to her birthplace. She left it, too, sitting behind while hooves marked their way back across snowy-scapes; Máni stood with her unfalteringly, and between them a child was born.
Go away, the urge to turn and abandon the Gods—her God—caused motion to cease for good before she could even press her nose to the face of Vespera's perch. She didn't belong there, not just there where the trail thinned and the air stung from lack of oxygen mixed with the bite of almost-winter tips, but the place she let go of when she called for arms and the Kingdoms were moving together into a real semblance of a nation. There was nothing she could do then, and there was nothing she could do there where she barely stood before the might of the Gods. She worried that her time had passed, that all she could offer was laying behind her in a heap at the foot of the Dusk's stone tower.
Legs finally buckled beneath the weight of humiliation, guilt pulling her down toward gravity's lips. And she was left to beg, body collapsed with appendages beneath, beg for forgiveness from the deity she swore her life to. A forsaken tear—perhaps the only thing she had ever cried—dripped on the ground of the altar, a stain on the shrine that only she would know was carved into its surface.
Any is welcome to witness and entertain each other in the background, but no interactions with Rann please <3
Set before the latest earthquake in the SWP
