r e c k i t t
crash through the surface
where they can't hurt us
where they can't hurt us
E
lysium, her cheeks are already so wet, if there are more tears to be shed for the thought of her home; they are lost in the streams that stain her pale face. It would have been so exceptionally wonderful, she wonders if it still exists, on some plane of life elsewhere, something beyond. Kitt hopes it does, along with those she had befriended there, it would be too heavy a loss for them all to simply cease to exist. Afterall, Corrdelia is here with her, right before her very eyes, reflecting the same pale stare back at her that she had when they were canine.
I believe you and Reckitt swiftly takes a breath, a hiccup following, staring intently at the curves of Corr’s new appearance. The dark fur she once sported that was now dappled and fading in tones of ash against her horse hair. Soft downy wings against her back, the color of blackest raven, but not the tips, those reflected the dapples pale shade of grey.
“It’s still you under there,” she tells her, though this body was different, this shape was as unfamiliar as her own, there were still key aspects of the dark wolf that had not been lost in her change. She wishes to press her cheek to the woman’s skin, to listen to the beat of a heart that was surely the same one as before, to match the rhythm of her breathing until she was once more calm. Until Reckitt was secure and comforted, but the pale horse does not know if she should, yet her whiskered chin stretches out to the dark hide of her companion.
Corr tells her it’s alright, that Wolf was her spirit guide, Kitt cocks her head to the side, confused but intently listening anyways. She’s done this before, it feels so familiar, washing over her like a sense of deja vu. Perhaps Corrdelia didn’t remember her, did not recall Ourania, their family, but Reckitt remembered for the both of them. “This body is so strange to me,” she confesses as the other moves in, lending comfort, pieces of the way her new mind worked, Spirit guides, Gods of Novus. There was no knowledge of either for Kitt, she had never had a Spirit Guide herself, and the Gods of another world were surely lost on her.
There had been Gods in Ourania, but they were long dead.
For the ashen woman, there was only the Earth Mother that was constant, Mother Nature as some might say, at least she still had that. The plane upon which she walked was never changing, not really, it had become something she could rely on, even if she could not make peace with her own reflection.
“I’m happy you’re here with me,” was she, or was it Kitt that was here with her?
@Corrdelia | "speaks" | notes: 483..also i apologize for the wait, and idk what this post even is lol
