LUVENA
The name lilted towards her in the night, soft as moonbeams and as strong as Caligo’s heartbeat. “Perhaps a bit of both” she replied, her breath fogging slightly in the chill of the night air. “Preserve those parts of everyone that show sympathy, and remorse. And melt away those parts that are best forgotten…” she let her words trail off, slipping away over the lakes surface.
She wondered what thoughts and memories this woman would rather leave behind. Surely there were some. No one equine in this cruel universe wished to keep every moment with pride. There was always some plaguing thought that one wished would be left as a remnant only for future historians. Forgotten to all but some curious scholar who poured through every book in dawn's great library.
“Dusks winters are no kindness either. I’ve heard that only Solterra is safe from the perils of winter. Though their god shows them no mercy in the summer in return. Are you from Denocte then?” she asked in curiosity.
She had never seen the woman in the court, and thought that surely she would have noticed such a tall striking woman. But perhaps like she had once chosen to do the woman lingered in the more untamed lands of Denocte. Sticking to the shores of the lake, or the snow capped peaks of the mountains, as close to the gods as could be.
@Cerridwen
She wondered what thoughts and memories this woman would rather leave behind. Surely there were some. No one equine in this cruel universe wished to keep every moment with pride. There was always some plaguing thought that one wished would be left as a remnant only for future historians. Forgotten to all but some curious scholar who poured through every book in dawn's great library.
“Dusks winters are no kindness either. I’ve heard that only Solterra is safe from the perils of winter. Though their god shows them no mercy in the summer in return. Are you from Denocte then?” she asked in curiosity.
She had never seen the woman in the court, and thought that surely she would have noticed such a tall striking woman. But perhaps like she had once chosen to do the woman lingered in the more untamed lands of Denocte. Sticking to the shores of the lake, or the snow capped peaks of the mountains, as close to the gods as could be.
@
"speech"
usually it starts
with a nightmare,
some sordid dream
that creeps in on a
saccharine song,
souring as it hits its peak.
with a nightmare,
some sordid dream
that creeps in on a
saccharine song,
souring as it hits its peak.
