there are nights when the wolves are silent
and only the horses howl
and only the horses howl
Who's heart didn't belong to this earth? Who didn't admire the loam and the delicate breath that percolated through the burgeoning leaves of compact trunks and boughs? The earth was excellence and attraction; heaven by divine design. Was Maerys not supposed to view the child who ran with the hues of this realm on his spine - locks of marigolds, skull of an elk, projections of a quail - how was she to look upon his earth-kissed limbs and ivy cable and not query if he was more a part of this world than she could conceive?
She had only one particular question that stung and ached, clawed her from the inside out - did she belong here? Did the girl of Varak belong among a land she knew nothing about and believed she knew no one within?
The boy was alongside her before she recognized, his snout smoothed against her jowl in succor as if he could taste all the things she felt and could understand. But he couldn't. "It doth take wintertide to ascertain that there is an enduring heat within." When her eyes moved to him, she already knew what she would see.
On his withers was a draping infant fur quilt, carried as a cape, as if all those memories of him and his mother gave him invincibility. He had eyes that flashed with a writhing tarn of emotion - insight, celebration, clemency, vibrancy. She'd been similar to him only two fleeting years ago.
"Where art thou home?" His home - whatever brick or clay or stone it had been composed of - had been his cocoon; a much-needed sanctuary. His eyes may wander the crack and dents in its architecture and feel the urge to leave and explore greater, more plentiful things, but a home is not something one should take leave of lightly at that age. The hazy sunlight imparted a passion on the body and made one feel as though the world loved you, but the earth could be cruel; there would be no mercy for even the ones mere days old.
She wished she'd known that before.
She had only one particular question that stung and ached, clawed her from the inside out - did she belong here? Did the girl of Varak belong among a land she knew nothing about and believed she knew no one within?
The boy was alongside her before she recognized, his snout smoothed against her jowl in succor as if he could taste all the things she felt and could understand. But he couldn't. "It doth take wintertide to ascertain that there is an enduring heat within." When her eyes moved to him, she already knew what she would see.
On his withers was a draping infant fur quilt, carried as a cape, as if all those memories of him and his mother gave him invincibility. He had eyes that flashed with a writhing tarn of emotion - insight, celebration, clemency, vibrancy. She'd been similar to him only two fleeting years ago.
"Where art thou home?" His home - whatever brick or clay or stone it had been composed of - had been his cocoon; a much-needed sanctuary. His eyes may wander the crack and dents in its architecture and feel the urge to leave and explore greater, more plentiful things, but a home is not something one should take leave of lightly at that age. The hazy sunlight imparted a passion on the body and made one feel as though the world loved you, but the earth could be cruel; there would be no mercy for even the ones mere days old.
She wished she'd known that before.
![[Image: maerys-pixel.png]](https://i.ibb.co/kM48w8r/maerys-pixel.png){kind=tracking}
x
force and magic always permitted
