Caelum
Because a vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping
The air was crisp, but alive.
Breathing it in filled her with a sense of peace, of contentment, chasing away the lingering bad memories and painful reminders of her trip to her home kingdom. Old wounds had been torn open on her heart, and the hummed in an angry melody against the ragged wounds of a crumbled heart. But, as Denocte always was, it helped sooth those painful twitches like a balm against the very tears of her soul. It wasn't a perfect fix, but it sheltered her enough to allow her to continue to heal at her own rate, slow but still healing.
But there was much to catch up with here.
A new ruler had taken the crown, even she could scent that in the first few moments her wings had carried her into Denoctian airspace. It led curiosity to where the original ruler had gone - not that she'd spent much time to really remember who was the reigning monarch at the time. When she thought about it properly, she knew only a few fellows of her court by name - even if she recognized many others by sight. Not a reassuring venture to only be able to call out 'hey you' to catch someone's attention. And Denocte was truly becoming home, didn't she owe it to herself to settle in and settle down, know the people and start letting roots down?
A wince tore across her features at that thought.
Nothing good had happened thus far when she'd settled down. Her kingdom was in ruins. Her son had gone to the stars. Her first love had been ripped from her before she was properly into adulthood, her other half had been stolen when he put his own life down for hers many years after. In her short early life, she'd experienced much heart ache from the mere actions, mere beliefs she'd found a place to call forever. And a part of her feared a repeat if she were to really settle down again in Denocte. The medic in here know the signs, the obvious facts of PTSD and anxiety flaring up and afraid to give into a happiness of her own, instead throwing herself into helping others. Always helping others. Better to focus on others than her own inner turmoil, pain and need for healing.
She hated psychoanalyzing herself.
And now that she'd properly come into her fae attributes, immortality and all, the eight year old mare was aware she had all the time in the world to worry and heal herself later. At her own pace. When she was ready to face her own demons. For now she'd bury it down into her core, where she could forget about, no matter how unhealthy. She'd paint the smile on her face, she'd wear the glossy expression of faux happiness to hide the fact she felt very little to her core. She'd be a good little doll on the shelf, a marionette for her strings to be pulled, while inside she was as empty as the pretty toys.
She'd heal someday, surely, but not today.
Perhaps a proper distraction would be useful however. A companion even. A bird to flutter through the trees with? A fox to race the wind? A deer to bound across the plains? Even as she pondered on it, she shook her head, well aware that it would take a special beast to bond with herself, to be able to sort through the many complicated layers of her heart, her being. And the idea of not being alone anymore was scary in its own right. She shook that weak thought from her mind, A princess should fear nothing, she must be strong to her people. Walk as if the ground yields to your hoof, and smile with the strength of the sun. If our people see you brave, they will be brave, even in times of strife. Be your people's princess, child. Her mother's words whispered to her on the wind, the memory trailing as she straightened her shoulders and her wings fluttered before falling against her spine.
She walked as if on air.
But her mind was a million miles away. It was only the murmur of a voice and the dull clop of heavy hooves of another shortly before their two paths, so unfocused, would have collided. Caelum's wings snapped out to swerve her from their path, eyes wide and startled as she took in the large stallion, and the large creature at his side, some sort of elk perhaps. The fae mare lowered back to the ground, hind limbs touching down with out a sound before her fore hooves followed, white hair fluttering around her features, expression calm, dignified, regal, but friendly, "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, I'm not usually so foolish to be distracted so thoroughly by thoughts!" She apologized for the unintentional blockade her own delicate form had made, "Please do forgive me, I promise I'm not usually the type to intentionally aim to be trampled." She added, a soft laugh escaping her muzzle, the sound sweeping, but ringing a little false, a little forced - a really good faked emotion, but missing the truly deep bellied joy she could no longer produce in her fragile state of heart.
Her eyes shined, and a painted smile hid the emotionless void with in.
"Speech"
Thoughts
@Gareth
Notes: Why does she have to be so formal . . . while not horribly formal, NORMAL HORSES DONT TALK LIKE THIS CAELY
Breathing it in filled her with a sense of peace, of contentment, chasing away the lingering bad memories and painful reminders of her trip to her home kingdom. Old wounds had been torn open on her heart, and the hummed in an angry melody against the ragged wounds of a crumbled heart. But, as Denocte always was, it helped sooth those painful twitches like a balm against the very tears of her soul. It wasn't a perfect fix, but it sheltered her enough to allow her to continue to heal at her own rate, slow but still healing.
But there was much to catch up with here.
A new ruler had taken the crown, even she could scent that in the first few moments her wings had carried her into Denoctian airspace. It led curiosity to where the original ruler had gone - not that she'd spent much time to really remember who was the reigning monarch at the time. When she thought about it properly, she knew only a few fellows of her court by name - even if she recognized many others by sight. Not a reassuring venture to only be able to call out 'hey you' to catch someone's attention. And Denocte was truly becoming home, didn't she owe it to herself to settle in and settle down, know the people and start letting roots down?
A wince tore across her features at that thought.
Nothing good had happened thus far when she'd settled down. Her kingdom was in ruins. Her son had gone to the stars. Her first love had been ripped from her before she was properly into adulthood, her other half had been stolen when he put his own life down for hers many years after. In her short early life, she'd experienced much heart ache from the mere actions, mere beliefs she'd found a place to call forever. And a part of her feared a repeat if she were to really settle down again in Denocte. The medic in here know the signs, the obvious facts of PTSD and anxiety flaring up and afraid to give into a happiness of her own, instead throwing herself into helping others. Always helping others. Better to focus on others than her own inner turmoil, pain and need for healing.
She hated psychoanalyzing herself.
And now that she'd properly come into her fae attributes, immortality and all, the eight year old mare was aware she had all the time in the world to worry and heal herself later. At her own pace. When she was ready to face her own demons. For now she'd bury it down into her core, where she could forget about, no matter how unhealthy. She'd paint the smile on her face, she'd wear the glossy expression of faux happiness to hide the fact she felt very little to her core. She'd be a good little doll on the shelf, a marionette for her strings to be pulled, while inside she was as empty as the pretty toys.
She'd heal someday, surely, but not today.
Perhaps a proper distraction would be useful however. A companion even. A bird to flutter through the trees with? A fox to race the wind? A deer to bound across the plains? Even as she pondered on it, she shook her head, well aware that it would take a special beast to bond with herself, to be able to sort through the many complicated layers of her heart, her being. And the idea of not being alone anymore was scary in its own right. She shook that weak thought from her mind, A princess should fear nothing, she must be strong to her people. Walk as if the ground yields to your hoof, and smile with the strength of the sun. If our people see you brave, they will be brave, even in times of strife. Be your people's princess, child. Her mother's words whispered to her on the wind, the memory trailing as she straightened her shoulders and her wings fluttered before falling against her spine.
She walked as if on air.
But her mind was a million miles away. It was only the murmur of a voice and the dull clop of heavy hooves of another shortly before their two paths, so unfocused, would have collided. Caelum's wings snapped out to swerve her from their path, eyes wide and startled as she took in the large stallion, and the large creature at his side, some sort of elk perhaps. The fae mare lowered back to the ground, hind limbs touching down with out a sound before her fore hooves followed, white hair fluttering around her features, expression calm, dignified, regal, but friendly, "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, I'm not usually so foolish to be distracted so thoroughly by thoughts!" She apologized for the unintentional blockade her own delicate form had made, "Please do forgive me, I promise I'm not usually the type to intentionally aim to be trampled." She added, a soft laugh escaping her muzzle, the sound sweeping, but ringing a little false, a little forced - a really good faked emotion, but missing the truly deep bellied joy she could no longer produce in her fragile state of heart.
Her eyes shined, and a painted smile hid the emotionless void with in.
"Speech"
Thoughts
@Gareth
Notes: Why does she have to be so formal . . . while not horribly formal, NORMAL HORSES DONT TALK LIKE THIS CAELY
still remains within the sound of silence
