”You don’t want me as your friend,” she tells him.
”Yes, I do,” he wants to tell her. The words are there, right at the tip of his tongue - all he has to do is speak them. It should be easy, optimism and encouragement comes naturally to Ipomoea, whether it was in spite of or because of his uncertain childhood. He could see the beauty of life, even in the darkness, and he has always wanted to share that beauty with others.
It’s the tone of her voice, and the way she shakes her head that stops him.
So he swallows those words down, suspecting they would do little to alleviate the black mare’s anxieties. Some times all you could do when someone refused to believe your words, was to show them the truth in your actions - and assuming she stuck around in Delumine long enough, he intended to do exactly that. He was a summer child, and had no doubts in the persuasion of his Court.
“Life isn’t always sunshine and daisies,” he said quietly, “even flowers have to go through the dark of night every day. But still they rise and unfurl every morning.” He had his own lesser-known and hardly-spoken doubts; surely if there was a darkness in her, there was a darkness in him as well? A darkness in everyone, no matter how well hidden? But he leaves it at that. “I had better be going,” he starts, turning his pink gaze back on her. “I hope you’ll find Delumine to your liking.” He was rather fond of the Court himself, after all; he was sure if she gave it a chance, if she accepted his friendship, she would, too (another testament to his naivety, perhaps.)
But as he took his first few steps into the forest he stopped suddenly, turning to peer at her over one shoulder. “I’m Ipomoea, by the way,” he offers her one final, shy smile. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you. If you’re ever at Court, come find me?”
He wasn’t sure if she would - but he hoped so. And then with a nod of his head and a flutter of his wings, the regent went trotting off along the river, leaving Sloane with the distant roar of the water and birdsong overhead.
hearts are breaking
wars are raging on
you’ve got me nervous
i’m at the end of my rope
hey, man, we can’t all be like you
i wish we were all rose-colored too
my rose-colored boy
@
annnd po’s exit!
”here am i!“
