Caelum
i've had just enough time"
Companionship.
When was the last time she had really had some of that. Don't mistake her for not being friendly or even social however: Caelum could handle herself just as well as the next Princess in front of others. It just came down to the fact that as well as Caelum made friends, they didn't define her. She was just as comfortable by herself (maybe even a little more comfortable) as she was in a large group of equine. It was rare for Caelum to spend time surrounded by tons of others, taking part in the conversation, and being part of that gathering in the truest sense. She actively avoided having to be in the center of it all as well. Even her own coronation she had snuck away to the balcony for a good thirty minutes just to get away - Arson had found her there and the two had laughed about the number of ponies that had been practically climbing over themselves to meet them.
Arson.
He was her first love, and like any 'first' he had been far nearer and dearer to her heart than those that had come to pass after. Arson had grown up with her, her absolute best friend. They knew everything about each other, had seen so much together . . . loved each other so deeply. His death had been her lowest point, her hardest point. Had it not been for sweet Shiori who had spoken to her about moving on and moving forward she often questioned if she would have been able to do so. Shiori had in many ways saved her life, she had brought her out of that despair and nurtured Caelum into acceptance and then moving on from the loss of Arson. The wound would never fully heal - a love like she and Arson had left an imprint upon her soul . . . but because of Shiori, that dark patch was over, and she now lived in honor of those she'd lost.
The number rose.
The only flaw in it all - the number of dead around her, loved ones lost and buried . . . it kept rising, and rising. It was what kept Caelum now from fully diving into the bonfire and making new friends. A part of her was afraid of the possibility of losing anyone else. Afraid that they'd suffer the hand of fate too soon, another life plowed in it's prime. She was terrified of history repeating itself. And yet another had still come, still approached, still spoke. Luvena. She most have noticed the concern Caelum expressed, for Caelum could see a shift of something as her expression had changed to concern. Whether it was body language, or merely her ability to read others that she'd developed solely for the use in a war room or greeting hall she no longer needed, something had shifted in the little mare.
I'm fine, really.
Even as Luvena said the words, Caelum's expression didn't change, didn't shift. She did offer a smile for the other mare when she admitted that she looked concerning, but having seen worse - and better days - had Caelum's thoughts spinning, "Please do not perceive me rude for asking, but do you suffer from a chronic ailment? It's just the way your words had been phrased, you're aware you don't look well, but you admit to having seen worse days. That eludes to a cycle, or I'd assume so." Still she would rather the other get of the 'twig legs' and relax. It was hard enough not to mother her already, Caelum's instincts had always leaned towards care and protect.
Anyone.
It didn't matter who they were, instinct would always direct her down that path - she just could bear others being hurt around her. The female spoke again though - stating it a pleasure to meet her. Caelum's eyes warmed to soft chocolate, and her head dipped just so: angled to not be below another (It's unsightly for a princess to bow lower than a low ranking lady, head up higher), but still dipping in greeting an acknowledgement, "Please, the pleasure is mine. You have saved me from making a spectacle of myself attempting to engage in small talk, it's never been a strong suit of mine." She returned pleasurably.
Always stately.
Caelum was understated in her more regal upbringing, but it didn't calm the teachings that had been encouraged of her from her youth. The way she spoke, her speech eloquent and learned. Her mannerisms, the way she held herself. Compassion but firmness. Kindness but determination. One hand swung the sword while the other held out bread. She was raised to be the queen to tender the citizens just as much as the queen to lead her armies forward at the helm. So much for lessons, like she'd need them now. Need them ever again. The other spoke, stating not just her court but rank, and Caelum nodded softly, even as her gaze cast gently over the market and those within it, "I am of the Night Court, yes. A medic myself." She shared willingly before glancing back towards the mare beside her, her gaze once more casting over the other's appearance. Her wings shifting, the veined film brushing against one another faintly and sending a scattering of fairy dust into a soft breeze, "I do not much care for the feeling of being out of sort. I prefer to be aware of everything around me. I made sure to learn the names of the court lands, and who their sovereigns are . . . or were, I hear that those of Dusk and Day have recently welcomed new leads to the helm. Mother and Father raised me that it's a knowledgeable horse that won't be forsaken by surprise." But how had that knowledge helped Arson, or any of the others she had lost. Still . . . she can't not be who she is. And she is still a crowned princess of a destroyed, and dead kingdom.
"Speech"
Thoughts
@Luvena
When was the last time she had really had some of that. Don't mistake her for not being friendly or even social however: Caelum could handle herself just as well as the next Princess in front of others. It just came down to the fact that as well as Caelum made friends, they didn't define her. She was just as comfortable by herself (maybe even a little more comfortable) as she was in a large group of equine. It was rare for Caelum to spend time surrounded by tons of others, taking part in the conversation, and being part of that gathering in the truest sense. She actively avoided having to be in the center of it all as well. Even her own coronation she had snuck away to the balcony for a good thirty minutes just to get away - Arson had found her there and the two had laughed about the number of ponies that had been practically climbing over themselves to meet them.
Arson.
He was her first love, and like any 'first' he had been far nearer and dearer to her heart than those that had come to pass after. Arson had grown up with her, her absolute best friend. They knew everything about each other, had seen so much together . . . loved each other so deeply. His death had been her lowest point, her hardest point. Had it not been for sweet Shiori who had spoken to her about moving on and moving forward she often questioned if she would have been able to do so. Shiori had in many ways saved her life, she had brought her out of that despair and nurtured Caelum into acceptance and then moving on from the loss of Arson. The wound would never fully heal - a love like she and Arson had left an imprint upon her soul . . . but because of Shiori, that dark patch was over, and she now lived in honor of those she'd lost.
The number rose.
The only flaw in it all - the number of dead around her, loved ones lost and buried . . . it kept rising, and rising. It was what kept Caelum now from fully diving into the bonfire and making new friends. A part of her was afraid of the possibility of losing anyone else. Afraid that they'd suffer the hand of fate too soon, another life plowed in it's prime. She was terrified of history repeating itself. And yet another had still come, still approached, still spoke. Luvena. She most have noticed the concern Caelum expressed, for Caelum could see a shift of something as her expression had changed to concern. Whether it was body language, or merely her ability to read others that she'd developed solely for the use in a war room or greeting hall she no longer needed, something had shifted in the little mare.
I'm fine, really.
Even as Luvena said the words, Caelum's expression didn't change, didn't shift. She did offer a smile for the other mare when she admitted that she looked concerning, but having seen worse - and better days - had Caelum's thoughts spinning, "Please do not perceive me rude for asking, but do you suffer from a chronic ailment? It's just the way your words had been phrased, you're aware you don't look well, but you admit to having seen worse days. That eludes to a cycle, or I'd assume so." Still she would rather the other get of the 'twig legs' and relax. It was hard enough not to mother her already, Caelum's instincts had always leaned towards care and protect.
Anyone.
It didn't matter who they were, instinct would always direct her down that path - she just could bear others being hurt around her. The female spoke again though - stating it a pleasure to meet her. Caelum's eyes warmed to soft chocolate, and her head dipped just so: angled to not be below another (It's unsightly for a princess to bow lower than a low ranking lady, head up higher), but still dipping in greeting an acknowledgement, "Please, the pleasure is mine. You have saved me from making a spectacle of myself attempting to engage in small talk, it's never been a strong suit of mine." She returned pleasurably.
Always stately.
Caelum was understated in her more regal upbringing, but it didn't calm the teachings that had been encouraged of her from her youth. The way she spoke, her speech eloquent and learned. Her mannerisms, the way she held herself. Compassion but firmness. Kindness but determination. One hand swung the sword while the other held out bread. She was raised to be the queen to tender the citizens just as much as the queen to lead her armies forward at the helm. So much for lessons, like she'd need them now. Need them ever again. The other spoke, stating not just her court but rank, and Caelum nodded softly, even as her gaze cast gently over the market and those within it, "I am of the Night Court, yes. A medic myself." She shared willingly before glancing back towards the mare beside her, her gaze once more casting over the other's appearance. Her wings shifting, the veined film brushing against one another faintly and sending a scattering of fairy dust into a soft breeze, "I do not much care for the feeling of being out of sort. I prefer to be aware of everything around me. I made sure to learn the names of the court lands, and who their sovereigns are . . . or were, I hear that those of Dusk and Day have recently welcomed new leads to the helm. Mother and Father raised me that it's a knowledgeable horse that won't be forsaken by surprise." But how had that knowledge helped Arson, or any of the others she had lost. Still . . . she can't not be who she is. And she is still a crowned princess of a destroyed, and dead kingdom.
"Speech"
Thoughts
@Luvena
