 RHOSWEN THERE'S NO REMEDY FOR MEMORY
Rhoswen found reprieve, at last, upon the ocean's edge - uncertain where the water began and the land ended. Her hooves sank deeper into the sand as the silver girl rolled her head backward, tipping it up toward the sky and the heavens above. Solis poured his gold kiss upon and against her skin, as though it were his most precious gift. Years ago, in her very early youth, Rhos scoffed at the mere existence of a divinity in the clouds above, and yet, as she had aged something in her heart had changed. And her dreams had changed with it - where they had once been damp and empty but for the shallow desires of mortality, now they were white and emblazoned with decorative imagery. Once or twice the redhead had even imagined Solis' broad handsome face; of course they were just that, though: dreams. She was no sage, or witch. Not once had she dreamt of Caligo; that dark-skinned woman had haunted her nightmares for a lifetime too long - good riddance. As the sound of gentle crashing waves played out peacefully like her favourite track, Rhoswen opened her grey eyes at last, thoughts turning toward home now. It was so hellishly dry in Solterra, more than even she could bear at the moment, hence her frequent excursions. (That and the fact Maxence had pinned a bloody post-it note in the court; something about toil and strife - her queue for a hasty exit) Rhoswen rolled her eyes then, physically recoiling at the thought of having to work the land as though she were a field hand. The horror! With a resigned sigh she knew however that at some point there would be no way around the physical aid needed for Solterra to flourish, but for now, she sure as hell was going to take all the ways around. A voice, low and faint, came to the avian girl on the breeze, and she snapped her head up the shoreline. There, not too far off was a winged boy the colour of dried blood, his long spindle-like legs holding him before the lapping water. Raglan. One of her brother's infamous Crows; she remembered the very day Reich had turned up at her chambers with the usual crowd only to notice a new addition - Rhos never thought she'd see something so leggy again. But she had taken her leave of Denocte soon after, and she wondered if he even remembered her. Rhoswen stared at the young pegasus for a moment, contemplating whether to approach or whether to cherish a moment longer of this peace. A scornful breath fell from her lips, who was she kidding; when had the girl of wolfblood and hurricanes chosen peace over people. Gossamer limbs as long as a sunlit highway carried the Day Courtian easily over the sand, salt spraying at her hair causing it to curl even tighter in rings of red. "You're far from home, kiddo. Meager pickings by the ocean, don't you think? She teased, a nod to his nimble hands and endless pockets. Rhoswen beamed, a laugh born in the hollow of her lungs. |
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