Oh, won't you go, make the most of a bad existence
cause you're so much older than she ever planned to live with
cause you're so much older than she ever planned to live with
Even in its barren nature, the capital of Day Court was still ostentatious. Eventually you’ve hung enough banners for your god. Sabrina forced herself to look at the ground because if she saw another tapestry of Solis, she would puke. He was fucking everywhere-- pressed into the walls, sewn in gold on flags, and his carved head anointed every other pillar. The idolatry made her sick to her stomach. She felt like she was trapped in some horrible, antiquated college town and Solis was the team mascot. Delphine’s school icon had been werewolves, and that was much cooler than some stuffy old sun god.
It was hot. Oppressively so, which seemed unfair for so early in the season. It made Sabrina miss her little apartment with the temperature-moderating runes etched into the walls (even though activating them made her nauseous). Her wings drifted and hung slack at her sides, the tips inches above the ground. She would not let them touch-- that would truly be sacrilege. Sabrina kept no gods; her wings were relics of someone much more holy than any deity Novus could spit out.
There was a gathering of bodies ahead and some sort of musical performance laid over top of them. Sabrina cut one way to go around it, then the other, but they had packed the streets so with their patron flesh that there was nothing to do but wait. Someone bumped into her and she pinned her ears back in warning; the individual uttered a hasty apology and moved away.
At the center of the group of onlookers a red mare was doing some silly little dance. Her height gave her a clear view of the performance. She had a nice voice, Sabrina had to admit, and she moved with a grace the winged creature could only envy. When the production concluded the mass of bodies began to clap and cheer like trained monkeys and the performer drank it in, though she seemed… genuine, at the very least. In due course, the crowd began to disperse, until all that remained was a gangly child who offered the blood-colored mare a white flower.
It was only when the youth darted away and the performer watched them go with stars in their eyes did Sabrina realize just how young she was; it twisted her up inside, for reasons she couldn’t quite understand. As she stood there, puzzling over the knotted-up emotions in her gut-- Sabrina was a gut-feeling creature-- she realized she’d been staring.
She cleared her throat and struggled to find words. It’d been so long since she’d willingly interacted with another creature. “That was… good.” God, was she always this bad at talking? “Did you… learn that, somewhere?”
Yes. Yes, she was.
