Juniper,
She is dark and she is beautiful, the way beige gaze moves up, up, up to the girl with curious new-green eyes. Juniper drinks in the Commander like a river, like a lake, like a woman starving for more than just the stagnant waters of her precious swamp. It is not long before a reply is given, a reply to the goddess-girl, the priestess' child, and Marisol's words are not hard.
Unlike warpaint upon skin, there is an inquiry there, brooking room for answers to questions given and asked. If fear were to take another's hearts, it would find no room in Juniper's.
The dove Pegasus is freedom incarnate, she is laughter, she is reckless and beautiful.
So she does not fear when Marisol speaks, even daring to chuckle and shake her head. "I am sorry it went so poorly, at home they would have made you try even harder should you admit to such things." Black framed eyes seem to glisten with interest, gleaming under the light, under the attention when the other woman brushes over her.
For a moment, the priestess wonders what exactly it is the Commander finds.
But she cares so little for that now, not when her shoulders square and crown tips towards the sky. Thoughtful, perhaps, could be used to describe the way Juniper is now. "I would very much like to join the Halcyon Unit. I am Juniper of Terrastella, from the recesses of the swamps. There, I was trained under the tutelage of many Priestesses of Vespera, shown the way in those wilds where so few could survive."
And there is a hunger that licks at her belly.
"I have heard of Halcyon growing up and Vespera all my days. Now, I aspire to do more than dance and run wild in a swamp. If you'd have me, I should run and dance and be wild among your soldiers, but I would learn to fight and I would listen; I would learn of you and your soldiers, Marisol. Vespera gifted Halcyon and his soldiers long ago, and where she leads I shall follow until she draws the last breath from my lungs." What more could she say? Already, Juniper could almost trip over her own tongue, but not quite. Not yet.
So her eyes fall from the heavens like a meteor.
They land hard and soft and shatter upon Marisol once more, looking at the many shades of chocolate and cream upon her skin. "And perhaps I could help with your meditations?" There is laughter returned at last, and oh how it tastes like a summer breeze.
In speech, my heart before her faints and diese
