![[Image: rhosbyspace2_by_outofthefurnace-dbkwvw7.png]](https://orig15.deviantart.net/7f0b/f/2017/234/b/6/rhosbyspace2_by_outofthefurnace-dbkwvw7.png)
A pale wraith was she; spilling over the moonlit mountains, drinking in the frigid alpine air with lips kissed by Solis. Solis - who had given her shelter when Calligo could not. Rhoswen knew she should not have returned, again, to Denocte. It tore at her heart: this conflict, which truly was not a conflict at all. For she had always been a forest fire; her mother had seen her prophecy in the flames beneath a winter sun. There was no question to be toyed with in the cyclonic synapses of her mind - there was only truth and weakness. For it was such weakness that drew Rhos back to the land of her birth, back to the mountains. It was the gentle pitch of her mother's lullaby humming in her ears as the sunlight died a dazzling death upon the horizon, shielding her against the dark. Because a wolf could never turn it's back upon the moon; because she would always be a lover of the night even if her heart had been sold to the sun. It was impossible to fully purge herself of the blood which rang faint still in her veins, for it seemed no matter how hard she tried - the sinew and thread attaching her to Denocte refused to be severed completely.
She was Solterran, that was clear in the wildfire in her clouded eyes. Her gaze was an oil-slicked ocean set alight. Her tongue a flickering spark of molten arsenic. Her heart an organ pumping only fire and sunlight. And yet ... ? Rhoswen sighed, her shoulders drooping as though the weight of an entire universe had chosen to rest upon shoulders so dainty it seemed they might break. Break, however, they did not. She stood tall upon an empty plateau, bearing the burden of her quiet strife, finding comfort only in the freezing air; Rhos almost broke into a sickly smile then - it was as though Calligo was trying to push her treacherous daughter from her clutches. As the thought danced like a broken record in her mind, the sound of falling scree echoed into the silence. She stiffened, her swanlike neck arching as she turned toward the footsteps thudding closer up the mountainside. Rhoswen was not frightened in the least; she knew better than anyone that Night folk were widely misjudged as dangerous creatures; people tended to be afraid of what they did not know. Yet still, if it was a stranger and not someone she had grown up with there was no doubt they would be hostile to a Solterran woman intruding upon Denocte soil. For once, Rhos just did not have the energy to argue.
She was Solterran, that was clear in the wildfire in her clouded eyes. Her gaze was an oil-slicked ocean set alight. Her tongue a flickering spark of molten arsenic. Her heart an organ pumping only fire and sunlight. And yet ... ? Rhoswen sighed, her shoulders drooping as though the weight of an entire universe had chosen to rest upon shoulders so dainty it seemed they might break. Break, however, they did not. She stood tall upon an empty plateau, bearing the burden of her quiet strife, finding comfort only in the freezing air; Rhos almost broke into a sickly smile then - it was as though Calligo was trying to push her treacherous daughter from her clutches. As the thought danced like a broken record in her mind, the sound of falling scree echoed into the silence. She stiffened, her swanlike neck arching as she turned toward the footsteps thudding closer up the mountainside. Rhoswen was not frightened in the least; she knew better than anyone that Night folk were widely misjudged as dangerous creatures; people tended to be afraid of what they did not know. Yet still, if it was a stranger and not someone she had grown up with there was no doubt they would be hostile to a Solterran woman intruding upon Denocte soil. For once, Rhos just did not have the energy to argue.
@judal helloooo
