I P O M O E A
He shifts his weight from one leg to the other as a shooting star darts across the sky-mirror. Ipomoea watches as it fades, and he says a silent wish to himself. A wish for Solterra, a wish for her people; a wish for himself, and the unresolved sadness he feels when he thinks of Raum and all that’s happened.
Then he catches himself, and smiles a small, thin smile. It was a Denoctean custom, wishing upon stars. Delumine was far too practical to believe in most superstitions. But thinking so didn’t stop him.
Her wings rustle when she shifts them, and he finds himself flexing his own subconsciously, breaking the grasp of the vines around them as they lift and stretch and mimic flight. Like they’re dreaming of flying alongside the Solterran girl, through forests filled with stars and skies that know no bounds. He lets them wonder what flying would be like - because he’s shut those dreams of his own away long ago.
“If they were, they wouldn’t be worth searching for I suppose,” he tells her. The island has reminded him of that - of how sometimes, the answer isn’t always the most important part. Sometimes it’s the excitement at finding something new.
Here it’s easy to forget that he’s looking for monsters and gods, that he has an anger building inside him that demands retribution. It’s easy to lose himself in the wonder of a vibrant new flower, or the peculiarity of a ray of blue-colored light.
He glances at her, and the sudden spark in her voice and in her eyes has him grinning. “Oh, I’m sure we can find something over there,” he says, nodding at a break between the trees.
“The trick is to not look for any one thing-” And he’s moving towards the game trail, where strange creatures had formed a path that twists through the trees and follows the flow of the land. “-we need to let it find us.”
There were tales about this island, tales of strange, floating lights and plants that shone different colors in the night and animals that danced when no one was watching. And he was determined to see at least one more marvel tonight, even if it isn’t the one he expects.
Then he catches himself, and smiles a small, thin smile. It was a Denoctean custom, wishing upon stars. Delumine was far too practical to believe in most superstitions. But thinking so didn’t stop him.
Her wings rustle when she shifts them, and he finds himself flexing his own subconsciously, breaking the grasp of the vines around them as they lift and stretch and mimic flight. Like they’re dreaming of flying alongside the Solterran girl, through forests filled with stars and skies that know no bounds. He lets them wonder what flying would be like - because he’s shut those dreams of his own away long ago.
“If they were, they wouldn’t be worth searching for I suppose,” he tells her. The island has reminded him of that - of how sometimes, the answer isn’t always the most important part. Sometimes it’s the excitement at finding something new.
Here it’s easy to forget that he’s looking for monsters and gods, that he has an anger building inside him that demands retribution. It’s easy to lose himself in the wonder of a vibrant new flower, or the peculiarity of a ray of blue-colored light.
He glances at her, and the sudden spark in her voice and in her eyes has him grinning. “Oh, I’m sure we can find something over there,” he says, nodding at a break between the trees.
“The trick is to not look for any one thing-” And he’s moving towards the game trail, where strange creatures had formed a path that twists through the trees and follows the flow of the land. “-we need to let it find us.”
There were tales about this island, tales of strange, floating lights and plants that shone different colors in the night and animals that danced when no one was watching. And he was determined to see at least one more marvel tonight, even if it isn’t the one he expects.
@elif <3
”here am i!“
”here am i!“
