jane
Someone said that Hell was other people. Now, Jane could not be called a philosopher, nor a big thinker, but solitude had a way of forcing you to contemplate the circumstance of your own unhappiness. As such, Jane had come to the conclusion that they were wrong. Hell was a room in a Solterran grotto, with empty walls and emptier hallways. She could talk to the servants, but hardly be friends with them. They pitied her too much, she thought, and that stung worse than all the rest.
The creature of galaxy and moonlight turned in the water and fixed Jane with a gaze that fixed her to the sand. It was a colour beyond Jane’s vocabulary, something that would be summarised as ‘pink’, but more. The water spooled around the other mare, unremarkably vicious against a body that Jane could barely describe. She was learned, but there were not enough words in the world to describe the other’s pattern.
Colours of cosmic creation were what decorated the other’s frame. Jane sensed the other’s hesitation, their lowered head suggesting gentleness. Then they stepped towards the shore, their patterned body damp with salt. The scent wafted over Jane, soaked her in a nightly ocean. What were all the scents that made up the sea, anyway? All the fish, the crabs, the shipwrecks- did these in any way affect it?
The creature, marelike in its form, stepped onto the sand close to Jane. Yes, the step left a print, so she could not be of imagination- or dream, or memory, or anything other than real. Something like dust drifted from the creature’s body as they stared silently at Jane as though beyond ability. Jane was aware of a slight breathlessness.
They turned their face away, and Jane thought it was as though they had lost something. As though they had failed, but what on earth could they have failed.
“Are you okay?” Jane asked, her voice dropping. A bit of concern flowed for the other figure. “I’m Jane. I…” Words died on her tongue, the cold of the Autumn night cloying in her throat. Her eyes stung a little bit. At the back of her mind, she imagined that Hardison was on those fields that Jane had fled. Any minute now, Jane would be called. Jane blinked away the thought, focusing again on the other equine who stood so small, so… frightened. Jane remembered another time, another her, quiet and awkward on these very shores. “It’s okay,” Jane whispered.
@[Veil Nebula] / speaks / im listening to a cottagecore playlist and i'm digging veils vibe
