Mesnyi
swing, swayed to our breathing:
they’re made of the moon
they’re made of the moon
H
is smile is real but it feels like a snakebite.”Charming.”
”What makes you think I am from a world that is not here?”
”I don’t assume such things,” but if I did…perhaps it would be your poor manners.
He is not a storyteller. She could’ve guessed it, certainly, but looks can be deceiving and so she gave him the benefit of the doubt. Clearly there was no need. He makes a terrifying world sound like a textbook.
”I suppose, though I think I have heard it from my brothers before. None of them quite cared for it.” She follows him with her gaze as he steps next to her. She doesn’t like it.
”And are you from many worlds?”
”No,” she says. ”Just one that is not this one. It took quite a bit of effort to get here.”
Ah, his name. Finally. Mesnyi smiles. ”My name is Mesnyi.” She pauses. ”There is a very simple dance that I learned during my few days in a very strange place where no children were born and no one died. Every sunrise its people would rise from their beds and watch the sun travel across the sky until sunset, when they would sleep or pretend to. I was never quite convinced that they slept. During eclipses they had one very complicated dance that I do not believe we mortals can commit to memory…but during blue moons they stayed awake all night, and for a few minutes they would dance in this way.”
Very, very slowly, Mesnyi arched her head backwards, until her face pointed to the sky. She opened her mouth and held it that way. ”They thought they could drink the darkness…that it made them immortal to do so. Any night but the blue moon’s night would kill them with its shadows.” Her voice was strained with the arcing of her throat. She closed her mouth and shut her eyes, rising in a rear. Then, with the suddenness of death, she snapped open her lids and slammed her hooves on the ground. Mesnyi relaxed her form and looked to Torix. ”It isn’t my favorite, but you’re not inclined to dancing. And - yes, I asked them - it is a dance.”
"You see, women are like fires, like flames. Some women are like candles, bright and friendly. Some are like single sparks, or embers, like fireflies for chasing on summer nights. Some are like campfires, all light and heat for a night and willing to be left after. Some women are like hearthfires, not much to look at but underneath they are all warm red coal that burns a long, long while."
![[Image: 26y3cfu.png]](https://i.imgur.com/26y3cfu.png)
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