A warm, golden relaxation eases through his body. There is a hint of something that is not quite right- is it nervousness? All other feelings drift above him, one by one- happiness, sorrow, anger, fear- and as each one leaves, the ones that remain grow more concentrated and more tight. They cling to muscle and tendon and blood, whirling in and out of his heart in a rhythm as old as life itself.
"Let go of all the bad things," her liquid amber voice soothes away an anxiety he did not quite realize was there, anxiety realized not mentally but physically, coiled in the space where muscle meets bone. There is a wave of nausea as he releases all the bad things, but it passes before he can hurl on the beautiful stranger... and up he goes... or down. or maybe just elsewhere.
(he always thought he had explored every hidden corner of his mind, or at least knew they were there. Laughter rings like bells in his head- you poor fool!)
Eik is taken back to a memory of being a colt, lifetimes ago, with the sun on his back and the smell of juniper and lichen and kindred flesh all around him. He breathes in deeply- Soleil is unmistakably different than the smell of mother and sister, but in this state of relaxation he can blur the lines and imagine he's there in the happiest memory he has, he's home, not yet old enough to feel even a lick of the aches of the world.
"Thank you," he murmurs to his guide of sorts, words thick with appreciation and heavy with the opium high. "You're nice." For a very long moment his eyes close, opening only when he hears his name from far far away- "Eik." He blinks. "Soleil." Soleil?
"Flora," he says at the same time as Lei, in his mind exuberantly declaring "Flora!!" but some of the enthusiasm is lost on the very long trip from brain to tongue. There is still much warmth in his voice (if not his intonation) as he greets the twilight queen with a broad, bleary smile. She is very much the vision of a golden fairy through the fuzz of his heavy eyelids. "How grand you're here too." He is aware of his inebriation, but in this moment he does not have the capacity to feel self conscious of his altered state.
With Flora's wings spread comfortably across him and Soleil's warm flank beneath, he closes his eyes and listens to the song hummed by the nice girl. The smell of Florentine's flowers drift over him and remind him of that long walk on that summer day, and all the worlds he'll never see. And despite how small and simple his existence seems in this moment, for the first time in as long as he can remember he feels free.
- - - - -
I am keeping quiet
E I K
But one day, the forest will talk about me
"Let go of all the bad things," her liquid amber voice soothes away an anxiety he did not quite realize was there, anxiety realized not mentally but physically, coiled in the space where muscle meets bone. There is a wave of nausea as he releases all the bad things, but it passes before he can hurl on the beautiful stranger... and up he goes... or down. or maybe just elsewhere.
(he always thought he had explored every hidden corner of his mind, or at least knew they were there. Laughter rings like bells in his head- you poor fool!)
Eik is taken back to a memory of being a colt, lifetimes ago, with the sun on his back and the smell of juniper and lichen and kindred flesh all around him. He breathes in deeply- Soleil is unmistakably different than the smell of mother and sister, but in this state of relaxation he can blur the lines and imagine he's there in the happiest memory he has, he's home, not yet old enough to feel even a lick of the aches of the world.
"Thank you," he murmurs to his guide of sorts, words thick with appreciation and heavy with the opium high. "You're nice." For a very long moment his eyes close, opening only when he hears his name from far far away- "Eik." He blinks. "Soleil." Soleil?
"Flora," he says at the same time as Lei, in his mind exuberantly declaring "Flora!!" but some of the enthusiasm is lost on the very long trip from brain to tongue. There is still much warmth in his voice (if not his intonation) as he greets the twilight queen with a broad, bleary smile. She is very much the vision of a golden fairy through the fuzz of his heavy eyelids. "How grand you're here too." He is aware of his inebriation, but in this moment he does not have the capacity to feel self conscious of his altered state.
With Flora's wings spread comfortably across him and Soleil's warm flank beneath, he closes his eyes and listens to the song hummed by the nice girl. The smell of Florentine's flowers drift over him and remind him of that long walk on that summer day, and all the worlds he'll never see. And despite how small and simple his existence seems in this moment, for the first time in as long as he can remember he feels free.
- - - - -
I am keeping quiet
E I K
But one day, the forest will talk about me
@Soleil @
Time makes fools of us all
