and bury it before it buries me
Before her mother and her father, before abandoning Windskeep and moving to Murmuring Rivers, she had been that filly who dreamed of both new and wild worlds, untouched by any and never before gazed upon with mortal eyes, Alongside these imaginings of a world even more wild and wondrous that the one she lived in and walked through, she would also dream of a knight in shining armor to sweep her off her hooves, to take her up into his embrace and tell her just how deeply his love and devotion ran for her. She had begged her mother for the stories of valiant princes rescuing princesses from mighty dragons that guarded towers made of cold stone loneliness. And her mother had been more than happy to weave tales of star-crossed lovers going through tremendous lengths to be together, crossing oceans and conquering mountains all for the sake of a love that rang true in their hearts for their special someone.
She tells herself these stories are not true, that they will never be true, that she is better off not even wishing it.
But, wishes are silent pitter patters on a heart. You sometimes only feel it in the fleeting ways your soul soars unexpectedly.
She likes her laugh and unable to help herself, Elena finds herself hoping. Thinking perhaps some answers and some guidance would be given to her today. “My cousin could see into the future, he said at most times it was, startling. He wouldn't often tell us what he saw,” she added, remembering the flashes of light and Marcelo growing silent.
Her home is pleasant, and the the whistle of the tea kettle draws Elena’s blue eyes away from scanning it and to the drink that awaits. “I’m from Terrastella!” Comes her chiming reply. Elena doesn't recognize her, even as she takes a closer look. It was entirely possible they had just missed each other. Elena watches her carefully for a moment, as the woman gains her barring. “I’ve only been in one forest as large as this, it’s lovely,” she reassures her quickly.
There is twinkling laughter at Corrdelia reprimands her bird, it is only when Elena actually spies her carrying the bird inside that Elena quiets herself for a moment. The obsidian feathered friend didn't seem to be…alive. Her mouth opens, and closes as she thinks better, Corrdelia seemed content, and Elena was never one to blemish another’s fantasy with the heaviness of life and burdens. “This smells amazing,” she says instead, blue eyes flittering to the dead crow briefly before she rests them on the mare.
She follows the mare, laughing at her excitement with nothing but earnest care and gentleness. “Animal spirits,” she says concentrating, Elena closes her eyes for a moment, collecting her thoughts before one rises, clear above the rest. Maybe it is an age old question, one many people have asked and never received an answer, Elena doesn't know why she would be any different.
“What am I supposed to do?”
She tells herself these stories are not true, that they will never be true, that she is better off not even wishing it.
But, wishes are silent pitter patters on a heart. You sometimes only feel it in the fleeting ways your soul soars unexpectedly.
She likes her laugh and unable to help herself, Elena finds herself hoping. Thinking perhaps some answers and some guidance would be given to her today. “My cousin could see into the future, he said at most times it was, startling. He wouldn't often tell us what he saw,” she added, remembering the flashes of light and Marcelo growing silent.
Her home is pleasant, and the the whistle of the tea kettle draws Elena’s blue eyes away from scanning it and to the drink that awaits. “I’m from Terrastella!” Comes her chiming reply. Elena doesn't recognize her, even as she takes a closer look. It was entirely possible they had just missed each other. Elena watches her carefully for a moment, as the woman gains her barring. “I’ve only been in one forest as large as this, it’s lovely,” she reassures her quickly.
There is twinkling laughter at Corrdelia reprimands her bird, it is only when Elena actually spies her carrying the bird inside that Elena quiets herself for a moment. The obsidian feathered friend didn't seem to be…alive. Her mouth opens, and closes as she thinks better, Corrdelia seemed content, and Elena was never one to blemish another’s fantasy with the heaviness of life and burdens. “This smells amazing,” she says instead, blue eyes flittering to the dead crow briefly before she rests them on the mare.
She follows the mare, laughing at her excitement with nothing but earnest care and gentleness. “Animal spirits,” she says concentrating, Elena closes her eyes for a moment, collecting her thoughts before one rises, clear above the rest. Maybe it is an age old question, one many people have asked and never received an answer, Elena doesn't know why she would be any different.
“What am I supposed to do?”
so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me
@Corrdelia
![[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
