FLORENTINE
always one decision away from a totally different life
The trinket hangs, glittering – even through dirt and grime and a thousand years worth of wear. Deftly, his scythe-tipped tail knocks the collar away, the air hissing with the song of his blade. A moment too late Florentine recoils. The trinket is gone, cast back into the dirt from which she found it.
The rush of blood in her veins is the thrum of a beehive – fast and full of wings. She had already begun looking though, full of the chances of finding something more. Yet his fury is sharper than the blade he carries and it cuts her far deeper. His hoof hits the dirt with a thump that resonates through her slim chest.
Ears fall to her skull as her gaze holds his. Florentine does not cower beneath his warriors stance, but her heart does fret within its cage of bone and sinew. Her eyes fall to the discarded trinket as it lies pitiful and forgotten among the sparse grass. She could ask her blade to go back to then, to when the collar was first broken and its wearer divested of their gem. Yet his words of the summit ring true – she should go.
With anger seething in her veins, Florentine rises from the footprint. In a stare of purple and citrine she shackles Raymond, as strong as steel. “Fine. But do not think to come to me when your loss becomes too much.” In silence she snatches the collar from its earthen tomb and turns for the window. She keeps the silver trinket for another day, another time. “You had best leave quickly, the window will not stay open long once I have passed back through it.”
With that the flower girl is gone and not even a petal remains to fall to fossils in this land of ghosts and bones.
@Raymond | | notes: Fin <3
★ She is clothed with strength and dignity,
and she laughs without fear of the future ★
