f l o r e n t i n e
Her mind is filled with darkness as she walks along the cliff head. Each step is slow, falling perilously close to the edge as her wings are held out beside her. They tip and dip, catching her, balancing her, summoning the air.
The wind is the strongest it has been for days, rolling in off the sea and roaring like a lion in her golden ears. They fall to her skull, becoming lost in the wild snarls of her mane whose tendrils toss this way, that way.
She wonders, as she walks this line, how easy it would be to fall from the cliff and fly across the sea, to darkness, to night, to him. That creature of starlight, so at one with the spirit of the night he steals the breath from her lungs.
The winds roar ever louder and she girl so softly smiles, her petals falling inland as the winds blow harder. She opens her mouth to vow to the wind, to her petals that flee to the heart of Terrastella, to her Court of Sunset, that yes, yes, she will stay, forever, for always. But the words don’t come, for in her wild thoughts, she had missed the arrival of another.
The girl looks at Florentine, bathing her in a green even the trees cannot aspire to. The flower girl blinks slowly, the heat of the sun dashed by the winds that throw her mane up to tangle with her eyelashes. Her smile arrives slowly, curling her lips with a languid grace, even as her eyes peer out towards the sea, towards him. She did not rest all night since she left the gods temples. It was ironic she had gone to find gods and yet still found none. What would she say when she next saw Inkheart?
“It is a good morning, you are right. The wind is a nice relief from the stifling heat.” She says, her tired eyes closing to better drink the smell of rolling seas.
When they open once more, they are fixed upon the girl of black and gold, “Welcome Morpho. I am Florentine.” She trails off, her soul too whimsical, her heart too torn and her mind too drowsy. “How have you been finding Terrastella so far?” She asks, moving away from the Cliffside to fall in step with the girl. As she does, as though shedding a dark, dark cloak, her smile grows more soft, her eyes more mischievous. Her steps become a dance for she is no longer a creature of quiet yearning, but one of light heartedness, her skin becomes her own, her heart closing itself, for now, only for now.
@Morpho
this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
The wind is the strongest it has been for days, rolling in off the sea and roaring like a lion in her golden ears. They fall to her skull, becoming lost in the wild snarls of her mane whose tendrils toss this way, that way.
She wonders, as she walks this line, how easy it would be to fall from the cliff and fly across the sea, to darkness, to night, to him. That creature of starlight, so at one with the spirit of the night he steals the breath from her lungs.
The winds roar ever louder and she girl so softly smiles, her petals falling inland as the winds blow harder. She opens her mouth to vow to the wind, to her petals that flee to the heart of Terrastella, to her Court of Sunset, that yes, yes, she will stay, forever, for always. But the words don’t come, for in her wild thoughts, she had missed the arrival of another.
The girl looks at Florentine, bathing her in a green even the trees cannot aspire to. The flower girl blinks slowly, the heat of the sun dashed by the winds that throw her mane up to tangle with her eyelashes. Her smile arrives slowly, curling her lips with a languid grace, even as her eyes peer out towards the sea, towards him. She did not rest all night since she left the gods temples. It was ironic she had gone to find gods and yet still found none. What would she say when she next saw Inkheart?
“It is a good morning, you are right. The wind is a nice relief from the stifling heat.” She says, her tired eyes closing to better drink the smell of rolling seas.
When they open once more, they are fixed upon the girl of black and gold, “Welcome Morpho. I am Florentine.” She trails off, her soul too whimsical, her heart too torn and her mind too drowsy. “How have you been finding Terrastella so far?” She asks, moving away from the Cliffside to fall in step with the girl. As she does, as though shedding a dark, dark cloak, her smile grows more soft, her eyes more mischievous. Her steps become a dance for she is no longer a creature of quiet yearning, but one of light heartedness, her skin becomes her own, her heart closing itself, for now, only for now.
@Morpho
★ She is clothed with strength and dignity,
and she laughs without fear of the future ★
