and bury it before it buries me
Elena had listened to the story Orani had told to her son, Jacob. A story about why his godfather was not there to tuck him in at night beside his cerulean freckled mother.
That Jay, her cousin of bronze with obsidian locks adorned with a feather, had grown wings of stardust and starlight and flown to the cosmos above them to save the moon. That he sat in the sky now, battling for the moon and bringing it back into the sky, before the bandits would once more steal it away. And thus, the lunary cycle was born.
In that story, Jay is a hero.
Instead of just another one who left them all behind.
Blue eyes find her own when she turns and Elena is once more startled by her beauty. In the same breath that the star wonders, so does Elena. She had always admired Orani and Jay for their relationship with the heavens above them, Elena had been so unable to comprehend them and their beauty. She wonders too about this mare, to be made of stars, what bliss it must be. But then why does fall down her face like the milky way?
She turns back to the fog. This world was strange. It reminds her of Beqanna, of Taiga and its heavy fog. The magic of it sends a child down her spine in a shudder. Elena turns to the boy beside her. Magic. So much magic. Elena both searches for it and wishes for it to be lost to the world forever.
Stay.
And so she does.
“Okay.”
She watches her two companions touch and lets those tiny cupped ears flutter forwards to catch her name. Blue eyes quickly turn to the emerald eyed companion with something akin to amusement within them. “Hello, Pan—and you too Oliver,” she says. She wants to laugh, as she eyes the otter from behind his ears, but it feels wrong here, like she may just shatter the illusion and will wake up back in Hyaline, the dutiful politician that feel in love with the wrong boy.
That final tear falls and Elena winces, just once before her face falls into a solemn frown with the next words the mare speaks. “I’m not sure,” she voices with concern, Elena forever the girl unable to hide her emotions. “I only just got here and—I lost the way I came in,” she says and realizes, perhaps, this may have been her first mistake. She had been so concerned for the girl of stars that her own safety had been disregarded once more. She turns to Pan then, listening with heartfelt silence before nodding in agreement. “I think it would be worth a chance, Pan,” she says, so quick to easily believe in another. “Warset,” she directs her next comment to the mare, tries so desperately to keep the tremble of compassion from her voice. “If we go with you, can you make it?”
Can any of them?
That Jay, her cousin of bronze with obsidian locks adorned with a feather, had grown wings of stardust and starlight and flown to the cosmos above them to save the moon. That he sat in the sky now, battling for the moon and bringing it back into the sky, before the bandits would once more steal it away. And thus, the lunary cycle was born.
In that story, Jay is a hero.
Instead of just another one who left them all behind.
Blue eyes find her own when she turns and Elena is once more startled by her beauty. In the same breath that the star wonders, so does Elena. She had always admired Orani and Jay for their relationship with the heavens above them, Elena had been so unable to comprehend them and their beauty. She wonders too about this mare, to be made of stars, what bliss it must be. But then why does fall down her face like the milky way?
She turns back to the fog. This world was strange. It reminds her of Beqanna, of Taiga and its heavy fog. The magic of it sends a child down her spine in a shudder. Elena turns to the boy beside her. Magic. So much magic. Elena both searches for it and wishes for it to be lost to the world forever.
Stay.
And so she does.
“Okay.”
She watches her two companions touch and lets those tiny cupped ears flutter forwards to catch her name. Blue eyes quickly turn to the emerald eyed companion with something akin to amusement within them. “Hello, Pan—and you too Oliver,” she says. She wants to laugh, as she eyes the otter from behind his ears, but it feels wrong here, like she may just shatter the illusion and will wake up back in Hyaline, the dutiful politician that feel in love with the wrong boy.
That final tear falls and Elena winces, just once before her face falls into a solemn frown with the next words the mare speaks. “I’m not sure,” she voices with concern, Elena forever the girl unable to hide her emotions. “I only just got here and—I lost the way I came in,” she says and realizes, perhaps, this may have been her first mistake. She had been so concerned for the girl of stars that her own safety had been disregarded once more. She turns to Pan then, listening with heartfelt silence before nodding in agreement. “I think it would be worth a chance, Pan,” she says, so quick to easily believe in another. “Warset,” she directs her next comment to the mare, tries so desperately to keep the tremble of compassion from her voice. “If we go with you, can you make it?”
Can any of them?
so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me
@Pan @Warset
![[Image: ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db...0iFb4PvyXE]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/8026a53b-dc57-41ab-b574-9f8a8fe57ce4/ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db0780.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzgwMjZhNTNiLWRjNTctNDFhYi1iNTc0LTlmOGE4ZmU1N2NlNFwvZGR2b3R3ZS01OTMwMmJhNi02YTgxLTQ3YmYtOTg0Ni0zMGM1YTVkYjA3ODAucG5nIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.ujCJH7FAbsQhfZlQniMmEd_vw-VmvaTDn0iFb4PvyXE)
let's light this house on fire
we'll dance in the warmth of its blaze
pixel made by the amazing star
