M O I R A
she looks into her mirror,
wishing someone could hear her, so loud
The innocence he wears upon his shoulders, so oblivious to chaos and any dangers, is a reassurance that brings light back into her eyes and a spring to her step. The phoenix does not realize how she's ached for the laughter of children, for their ringing voices on stone streets, for the purity they bring that rejuvenates the soul and invigorates one's desire for life. And she is almost ashamed for forgetting so much.
But Regis is different from the children of the Tonnerre Estate. He is far more precious and loved and less proper or worried about displeasing the two who love him so dearly. The two who now give their nod to Moira. Absolutely beaming like the boy before her, she dips her head in thanks and kisses Regis' cheek. "Not everywhere, not yet. There are places that I cannot reach, places too high when I only know how to walk. But the sweets are not in the sky, not yet." And her laughter is like a torch being lit after an age of darkness over the land, it shines as a beacon, a dusk-laden invitation that makes others pause and turn to look at the odd pairing. A child in a fox mask, a fox wearing a rabbit's face, and the setting sun wearing both day and night as though a tribute and offering, all grinning like fools in love with life and too jubilant to care about anything darker.
At his urging, the phoenix' wing extends to wrap about her young charge and his bouncing companion, claiming him as her own to protect for their time together. He makes her smile, makes her remember what it was to be young and so full of possibilities (or those that she pretended into existence, and those that the twins dangled before her to liven her spirits when she had been so terribly blue), he brings her to life again. There is a light in an attic too long unlit, and at last it flickers on when the prince looks up and asks that simple question.
No one has asked Moira Tonnerre which is her favorite.
"I could no sooner choose a favorite star or story," she says with a wink. Then, lips purse and brow furrows. She squeezes him tighter to her side and whispers to them both "If I had to choose, sticky buns and cinnamon rolls are always a delight. And chocolate... I do believe you will like the chocolate, little prince. We'll go to their stall first so you can see! It is much sweeter than honey, much sweeter than clover. Come," she confides, ushering him forward with a warning look at any who dance too near them. "Come," she says and pulls them through bodies packed tighter and tighter as they go along.
"There they are!" The bright exclamation is nearly a cry of ecstasy, eyes alight while they go forward. He is so careful to follow her every move, dip when she dips, dodge when she dodges. He is her shadow, but much brighter than that. She careens to a stop, momentum pushing her closer to the vendor than anticipated and a slight chuckle and blush rising faster than her voice can. "Strawberries, Regis, try the strawberries in chocolate!" Eagerly she points to each item as they are named, floating one into the fountain of dark chocolate that drips in a beautiful display. Behind the booth, a man eyes them both, but his face is kind and he smiles when her soft moan escapes. It's been absolute ages since she's touched something so sweet and addicting.
@Regis don't mind her and her minor mindgasm over chocolate strawberries. Moira, please do not lose Reggie while you enjoy your treats !
wishing someone could hear her, so loud
The innocence he wears upon his shoulders, so oblivious to chaos and any dangers, is a reassurance that brings light back into her eyes and a spring to her step. The phoenix does not realize how she's ached for the laughter of children, for their ringing voices on stone streets, for the purity they bring that rejuvenates the soul and invigorates one's desire for life. And she is almost ashamed for forgetting so much.
But Regis is different from the children of the Tonnerre Estate. He is far more precious and loved and less proper or worried about displeasing the two who love him so dearly. The two who now give their nod to Moira. Absolutely beaming like the boy before her, she dips her head in thanks and kisses Regis' cheek. "Not everywhere, not yet. There are places that I cannot reach, places too high when I only know how to walk. But the sweets are not in the sky, not yet." And her laughter is like a torch being lit after an age of darkness over the land, it shines as a beacon, a dusk-laden invitation that makes others pause and turn to look at the odd pairing. A child in a fox mask, a fox wearing a rabbit's face, and the setting sun wearing both day and night as though a tribute and offering, all grinning like fools in love with life and too jubilant to care about anything darker.
At his urging, the phoenix' wing extends to wrap about her young charge and his bouncing companion, claiming him as her own to protect for their time together. He makes her smile, makes her remember what it was to be young and so full of possibilities (or those that she pretended into existence, and those that the twins dangled before her to liven her spirits when she had been so terribly blue), he brings her to life again. There is a light in an attic too long unlit, and at last it flickers on when the prince looks up and asks that simple question.
No one has asked Moira Tonnerre which is her favorite.
"I could no sooner choose a favorite star or story," she says with a wink. Then, lips purse and brow furrows. She squeezes him tighter to her side and whispers to them both "If I had to choose, sticky buns and cinnamon rolls are always a delight. And chocolate... I do believe you will like the chocolate, little prince. We'll go to their stall first so you can see! It is much sweeter than honey, much sweeter than clover. Come," she confides, ushering him forward with a warning look at any who dance too near them. "Come," she says and pulls them through bodies packed tighter and tighter as they go along.
"There they are!" The bright exclamation is nearly a cry of ecstasy, eyes alight while they go forward. He is so careful to follow her every move, dip when she dips, dodge when she dodges. He is her shadow, but much brighter than that. She careens to a stop, momentum pushing her closer to the vendor than anticipated and a slight chuckle and blush rising faster than her voice can. "Strawberries, Regis, try the strawberries in chocolate!" Eagerly she points to each item as they are named, floating one into the fountain of dark chocolate that drips in a beautiful display. Behind the booth, a man eyes them both, but his face is kind and he smiles when her soft moan escapes. It's been absolute ages since she's touched something so sweet and addicting.
@
