Juniper
he knew the lie of silence to be as evil as the lie of speech.
Distant lands ring with bells and voices, horrors unfold and borders are closed. But they do not touch Terrastella, not yet, not quite. Here, the sun rises with the crispness of a new morning. Here, the world is born anew as their King returns at last. Dusk celebrates upon his return, people fill the streets and sing and dance and laugh.
Their glee is electricity in the air, drifting to the woman who once may have been a mourning dove or a changling, who wears storms as a cloak and laughs as she brushes, shoulder to shoulder, against the priestesses who have gathered within the walls of the court. For now, Juniper can relax. No messages yet are to be delivered, no vital information to exchange hands, no volley of arrows trying to catch her as she streaks through the skies above. Her heart lurches as she looks there, to the cloudless blue, and sighs when the sun kisses her upturned face.
What she would give to thread through the currents, but Jun is short on candles and paper and food, her shelves painfully bare. So into the masses of merriment she dives, not yet having met those outside of the Halcyon group (and very few within, as it stands), and still a stranger upon these streets. Bright, blossoming eyes dance along stalls like dewdrops on daisies, kiss bare shoulders and blushing cheeks brazenly and without regrets. This sweltering heat from bodies thrust together in throngs and crowds pushes the temple into her mind. The priestesses were not a large group, but they were enough to make her feel welcomed and comforted. This... This overflowing, unending pressure and pressing from the masses has Jun dipping behind a stall, disappearing into an alley.
Perhaps coming out when their King made his appearance is not the wisest idea she's had. Perhaps it would be best to let her belly growl and grumble, returning to the barracks that hold so few precious belongings once more. Ah, but first, should she go to the shrine, should she pray to her goddess for this bright and beautiful day?
"Speaking."
Their glee is electricity in the air, drifting to the woman who once may have been a mourning dove or a changling, who wears storms as a cloak and laughs as she brushes, shoulder to shoulder, against the priestesses who have gathered within the walls of the court. For now, Juniper can relax. No messages yet are to be delivered, no vital information to exchange hands, no volley of arrows trying to catch her as she streaks through the skies above. Her heart lurches as she looks there, to the cloudless blue, and sighs when the sun kisses her upturned face.
What she would give to thread through the currents, but Jun is short on candles and paper and food, her shelves painfully bare. So into the masses of merriment she dives, not yet having met those outside of the Halcyon group (and very few within, as it stands), and still a stranger upon these streets. Bright, blossoming eyes dance along stalls like dewdrops on daisies, kiss bare shoulders and blushing cheeks brazenly and without regrets. This sweltering heat from bodies thrust together in throngs and crowds pushes the temple into her mind. The priestesses were not a large group, but they were enough to make her feel welcomed and comforted. This... This overflowing, unending pressure and pressing from the masses has Jun dipping behind a stall, disappearing into an alley.
Perhaps coming out when their King made his appearance is not the wisest idea she's had. Perhaps it would be best to let her belly growl and grumble, returning to the barracks that hold so few precious belongings once more. Ah, but first, should she go to the shrine, should she pray to her goddess for this bright and beautiful day?
