fear is the mind-killer.
fear is the little death that brings total obliteration.
fear is the little death that brings total obliteration.
T
here through the night, a steady body and a beating heart to keep her calm and keep her at bay, Juniper is unsure exactly how she lost her King. For a moment frozen in time, the world closed in and opened up, her sky disappeared as mile upon mile of water grinned like a drowning, drunken fool. It tried to pull her close, to hug her tightly. Then he spoke, then he distracted the pale girl, the holy girl, from the terror of the sea and all its horrors. Such open spaces were awful. Unlike the heavens, water so great and terrible offers only death to Juniper. Green eyes close and she prays to Vespera that all will be well. Words are inward, silent, for no living ears should hear them - not such an intimate request, such a moving speech cannot be for mortal ears and mortal mouths.
So the crushing of bodies and rushing of bodies to reach greedily for pearls as the heart of the island stops and opens, as its splendor and richness is born before their very eyes with the rising of the red dawn, awakens her and frightens her. One wrong move, and then they all would die. Toppling into mile upon mile of endless, depthless water. Pale spine contracts, phantom hands running along sparrow-boned ribs, shivering even though there is the pressing of bodies, the swelling of excitement tangible on the air.
Juniper is almost terrified. Then, she sees a spotting of black along the beach. He does not go swarming like worker bees into the island, eager to see what the gods have given their creations. Instead, judgmental black eyes scan the sands as though they hold the answer to the world.
And how Caine is dissatisfied with what he finds.
Curious and in need of distraction, kohl-rimmed eyes follow curving muscles and rolling shoulders. They arc along black wings, and before she knows it, Juniper has walked up to his shadow. Her own pale pinions ruffle and shiver, shaking off condensation sitting too long on fine, down feathers. "Your frown is too big for your face, I'm afraid it might fall off. And what shame that would be," Juniper chirrups, brows pulling together as teeth worry lower lip. "Do you always look so closed?" For her people are not closed, they are open and bright and ready. In that moment, Juniper misses her sisters and cousins and mothers most of all - not these strange birds that sing off-kilter, not the pearls from flowers and berries and vines that melt into the silencing of a strange heart. None of this matters, none save the frown that is too big and the man that is wholly dark and brooding.
@Caine | "speaks" | notes: <3 jumping in late like usual c;
STAFF EDIT***
@Juniperhas rolled a 6! She has been awarded +200 signos.
