Take my heart and make it strong here
A man made of earth, flowers, and snow emerge before him. Aerie cannot place if he knows this man who has been so lovingly crafted by the earth and all its seasons. Aerie notices first the crown of flowers, and then the wings that emerge from his ankles. Aerie is lucky that he is taller than his companion, for his height seemed to have helped him narrowly avoid tearing flesh from the man with gentle eyes. He is too caught up with his own shame to allow his mind to weave stories about the man who stands before him. The staccato greeting of early morning comes from his companion. Salutations to dawn, whether he realizes it or not. Aerie is not the dawn, he is a ghost that merely haunts the walls she kisses awake. "Good morning." The words spill from his ash stained lips, his throat tight from the emotion that had spilled from them moments ago.
The man confesses that he is not used to seeing others atop the crest of the wall here. Aerie does not know him as a sinner, so he finds the confession misplaced. Strange for someone to confess to a ghost rather than a priest. "Nor am I." The words crash from his maw awkwardly. He is not the wordsmith the world knows him to be, he is the man who has been discovered at one of his lowest points. "I am used to seeing the dawn gently rouse the city from slumber, not the bodies of men haunting the walls of Delumine." Aerie cannot stop the admission from flowing past his lips. He can feel the seams he has worked so hard to close begin to tear open. There is something painfully familiar to him about his companion, but he cannot place it. The crown of flowers sleeps upon his head, but he cannot remember where he has ever seen such a feature. His imagination balks at the thought of crafting a story about this stranger, the encounter is too awkward for him to breathe his stories.
Aerie finds that he is staring, but he can't help himself it seems. "I'm sorry, I'm not usually so awkward. My name is Aerie." He refrains from admitting that a stranger finding him so early is like peering into a diary he has written that contains his darkest secrets. He is vulnerable, but he cannot admit this to a stranger. The glow of his scarf swells momentarily. It seems to ask him how he could have forgotten his idea that all of life is an adventure. Aerie feels the lump in his throat grow once more, and he forces himself to tear his gaze away from the earth-chiseled man.
The man confesses that he is not used to seeing others atop the crest of the wall here. Aerie does not know him as a sinner, so he finds the confession misplaced. Strange for someone to confess to a ghost rather than a priest. "Nor am I." The words crash from his maw awkwardly. He is not the wordsmith the world knows him to be, he is the man who has been discovered at one of his lowest points. "I am used to seeing the dawn gently rouse the city from slumber, not the bodies of men haunting the walls of Delumine." Aerie cannot stop the admission from flowing past his lips. He can feel the seams he has worked so hard to close begin to tear open. There is something painfully familiar to him about his companion, but he cannot place it. The crown of flowers sleeps upon his head, but he cannot remember where he has ever seen such a feature. His imagination balks at the thought of crafting a story about this stranger, the encounter is too awkward for him to breathe his stories.
Aerie finds that he is staring, but he can't help himself it seems. "I'm sorry, I'm not usually so awkward. My name is Aerie." He refrains from admitting that a stranger finding him so early is like peering into a diary he has written that contains his darkest secrets. He is vulnerable, but he cannot admit this to a stranger. The glow of his scarf swells momentarily. It seems to ask him how he could have forgotten his idea that all of life is an adventure. Aerie feels the lump in his throat grow once more, and he forces himself to tear his gaze away from the earth-chiseled man.
@Ipomoea | I hope this is alright. I haven't written Aerie in a long time.
