MINYA
take that look from off your face
you ain't gunna burn my heart out
you ain't gunna burn my heart out
Sleep clings to her long, ebony eyelashes. It keeps her eyelids heavy and her eyes gaze becomes a heavier, darker thing as snowflakes contrast across her cheeks and fringe.
The winds are so frigid here, Jack Frost bites along her cheeks. He presses icy fingers into her skin and deeper, deeper still until he is within her bones. He paints Minya in frost and what irony it is since she is the girl of ice – the bitter one of the White Scarab. This is Minya’s season there is nothing more colder than she – nothing except winter itself.
And winter wraps her in cold winds, it holds its girl of ice tight. It paints her lips white with cold and nips along her flesh until she is numb, until she is just a shade from blue. Blue like the sky…
Her cloaks ripple about her. Their royal blue is dusted with snow and frost idly draws intricate patterns across the cloth. From beneath her hood, her pink hair is pulled free, tugged by the wind to reach for the sky, for the clouds that breath ice and snow and endless winter.
It is a long trek back from the desert to Denocte. The snow marks her path, it documents her small footprints in the snow. It would have been an arduous trip, were Minya not as nimble as an elf.
Ah it is easier out here, where there are no mirrors to reflect truth back at her. It is easier when there is nothing but the wind and the satisfying weariness of travel. The girl’s heart thumps with her effort through the snow, it breathes warmth into her veins and beneath her cloak she is not cold, but as warm as a serpent beneath a desert’s midday sun.
From the swirling of snow there is a shadow. It looms larger and larger and only as the snow passes, as sunshine gleams down brighter now the clouds has granted it sight of the earth, that Minya sees a girl.
The broken girl jangles – not with broken spirit or the pieces of her that long ago fell apart. No, Minya jangles with assorted diamonds, jewels and gems. Each part of her slender figure is adorned with some kind of jewel, yet all are hidden by her wintertime coat.
“Are you lost?” Her cold lips ask, as winter turns her words and breath to silver in the air. Silver eyes, colder than ice and more beautiful than the moon, watch the stranger as she gazes this way and that. “If you are headed for the city, I can show you the way.”
@Kos <3 :) | "speaks" | notes: <3
