♙ p a n d o r a ♙
I thought of angels choking on their halos
get them drunk on rose water
The girl lets out a little shriek of surprise at the sound of Pandora’s voice, and she jerks away from the river, tugging her line from the water and throwing it so far behind her that it got tangled up in her wings. Pandora winced, slightly, fixing her with an apologetic look. “Oh, sorry – did I startle you?” The girl stares at her for a moment, wide-eyed, and she notices the way that her eyes linger on her golden scales; it isn’t unusual. In some lands, her condition is quite rare. (Although, in light of later comments, she hopes that the girl doesn’t think that she’s some kind of an oversized fish.) Pandora doesn’t mind, though – if anything, she loves to be the center of attention. She waits patiently for the girl to collect herself, and smiles benevolently at her girlish, high-pitched voice, still rigid from surprise. She’d never had any of her own, – something of a surprise, considering how long she’d lived and how many lovers she’d had - but she loved children.
She listens attentively to the girl’s explanation, odd eyes trained on the girl’s own. “A fisherwoman, eh? How did you pick that hobby up?” Pandora was from a relatively civilized land, but, in spite of their close proximity to the ocean, she’d never met a fisher before. (But, she supposed, there was a first time for everything in her endless travelling – and, even as she reached what was presumably the end of it, it was a comfort to know that there were still surprises along the way.) “What do the sockeye salmon look like? I don’t think I’ve ever seen one.”
“I’m Pandora. I’ve been here for a few weeks – it’s nice to meet you, Essielure!” She flashes her a cheerful grin – seems like the girl’s a sweet kid. (She can barely remember being her age. Youth was a bliss.) She tilts her head, the bright, branching extent of her horn catching in the sunlight like polished gold. “How are you liking Delumine, so far?” A question from one foreigner to another, she thinks. It’s always interesting to see what other, less jaded travelers see in new lands – where she sees yet another stuffy library with a few new tales to add to her collection, another might see the world’s grandest repository of knowledge. It was all a matter of perspective, or so she liked to think.
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tags | @Essielure
notes | <3
I thought of angels choking on their halos
get them drunk on rose water
The girl lets out a little shriek of surprise at the sound of Pandora’s voice, and she jerks away from the river, tugging her line from the water and throwing it so far behind her that it got tangled up in her wings. Pandora winced, slightly, fixing her with an apologetic look. “Oh, sorry – did I startle you?” The girl stares at her for a moment, wide-eyed, and she notices the way that her eyes linger on her golden scales; it isn’t unusual. In some lands, her condition is quite rare. (Although, in light of later comments, she hopes that the girl doesn’t think that she’s some kind of an oversized fish.) Pandora doesn’t mind, though – if anything, she loves to be the center of attention. She waits patiently for the girl to collect herself, and smiles benevolently at her girlish, high-pitched voice, still rigid from surprise. She’d never had any of her own, – something of a surprise, considering how long she’d lived and how many lovers she’d had - but she loved children.
She listens attentively to the girl’s explanation, odd eyes trained on the girl’s own. “A fisherwoman, eh? How did you pick that hobby up?” Pandora was from a relatively civilized land, but, in spite of their close proximity to the ocean, she’d never met a fisher before. (But, she supposed, there was a first time for everything in her endless travelling – and, even as she reached what was presumably the end of it, it was a comfort to know that there were still surprises along the way.) “What do the sockeye salmon look like? I don’t think I’ve ever seen one.”
“I’m Pandora. I’ve been here for a few weeks – it’s nice to meet you, Essielure!” She flashes her a cheerful grin – seems like the girl’s a sweet kid. (She can barely remember being her age. Youth was a bliss.) She tilts her head, the bright, branching extent of her horn catching in the sunlight like polished gold. “How are you liking Delumine, so far?” A question from one foreigner to another, she thinks. It’s always interesting to see what other, less jaded travelers see in new lands – where she sees yet another stuffy library with a few new tales to add to her collection, another might see the world’s grandest repository of knowledge. It was all a matter of perspective, or so she liked to think.
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tags | @Essielure
notes | <3
