and, when the friendly sunshine smil'd,
and she would mark the opening skies,
i saw no Heaven—but in her eyes
and she would mark the opening skies,
i saw no Heaven—but in her eyes
Ipomoea takes to the story much like her children would, were they here. You are never too young for a good story, especially not one of light and hope and wonder. When it comes to those things, there is a little bit of child in all of them, waiting to hear it, searching for it.
But when the last of her words fall away to the coming night, fading like the sun over the horizon and Ipomoea turns back toward her, something is missing in his eyes. “Perhaps the magical and wonderful feats are just waiting for the right equine to accomplish them,” Eulalie suggests, settling her warm brown gaze upon the younger man. “For someone with a pure heart and good intentions to discover who they truly are.”
There is a suggestiveness to her tone, a quirk to her brow, as she says this. Like she could be talking about anyone. About herself, her children. Him. “But you’re right, they do make for the best stories, especially if they can help inspire others.” Eulalie smiles, at last, and is reminded of the story Somnus had told her once about a constellation, of a love so great the gods had immortalized it in the stars.
She remembers wondering if she could ever love so strongly, so deeply.
The golden haired mare takes the offered shoulder, and can tell that Tabbris is relieved that they have decided to return to the safety of the court. But she is not worried, not with the sun haloing them in a golden lining like they are something magical and otherworldly. “Yes, we best get going before we’re discovered,” she laughs, as they head down the beach and away from the strange stone monuments.
But when the last of her words fall away to the coming night, fading like the sun over the horizon and Ipomoea turns back toward her, something is missing in his eyes. “Perhaps the magical and wonderful feats are just waiting for the right equine to accomplish them,” Eulalie suggests, settling her warm brown gaze upon the younger man. “For someone with a pure heart and good intentions to discover who they truly are.”
There is a suggestiveness to her tone, a quirk to her brow, as she says this. Like she could be talking about anyone. About herself, her children. Him. “But you’re right, they do make for the best stories, especially if they can help inspire others.” Eulalie smiles, at last, and is reminded of the story Somnus had told her once about a constellation, of a love so great the gods had immortalized it in the stars.
She remembers wondering if she could ever love so strongly, so deeply.
The golden haired mare takes the offered shoulder, and can tell that Tabbris is relieved that they have decided to return to the safety of the court. But she is not worried, not with the sun haloing them in a golden lining like they are something magical and otherworldly. “Yes, we best get going before we’re discovered,” she laughs, as they head down the beach and away from the strange stone monuments.
@Ipomoea fin <3
