Caelum
Because a vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping
She could sense the change.
He hides his emotions as well as she does, but just as he could read her, so could she for him. He was an open book that resonated with her from a shared history . . . for him, she was a book he had helped to write the hardest parts for. She sighed gently, tilting her head at his words, at the clear struggle he was facing, and she managed a soft, gentle smile. A momentary rush of warmth that filled her face, and that shy, impish smile touched her muzzle, "Well, you know me, always holding my secrets close. Can't get away with anything when you show your hand to everyone at the table." She reminded gently, even as she brushed her muzzle reassuringly against his shoulder, "I know you worry Coy, if the situation was reversed, I'd be the same. But I'm still strong, I promise, I'm to going to buckle under any weight. I have things to accomplish in life far before I let that happen." Not that anything could happen with her majority being reached anyways. True and proper fae coming into her own. The immortality was set in, and she knew the proper grasping of her magic wasn't very far behind.
Of course, he always knew just what to say.
Her gaze lowered, her neck bowing slightly, a sigh fluttering quietly from her muzzle as she kicked at the dirt with a forelimb, digging up the soil just a touch, "It's more than there not being an entire kingdom . . . It's my fault it is in ruin. I was foolish, we thought we were envinsible, and in the end it cost me everything. How can they cherish me after I led that destruction through our front gates? How could they forgive me for setting those vile beings on our kingdom?" She asked quietly, how could her people forgive her?
She hadn't yet forgiven herself.
His voice shifted, cool and formal, and she paused herself, before breathing softly, shaking her head, "No . . . I'm sorry, you're just . . . you're trying to help, and it's just been a lot of fresh wounds re-opening before I could properly bandage them." She murmured apologetically, the cool and formal tone having hurt more than his words had before.
They didn't get better, as he kept himself more aloof, more cold.
She did have to smile slightly at his acknowledging she wasn't far gone, but she was his friend, even if she flinched faintly at the cool retort of asking forgiveness for carrying to worry. Her gaze flinching as she looked up, muzzle twisting with almost despair at the words, the tone, "I . . . that's not what . . . . Coy . . ." It didn't get better and she took a step back, followed by another, each sentence another stab through her heart, wanting to find the words to apologize, but not sure what to say, where to go. She couldn't talk about, didn't want to hear about it. She just needed a little time to let the wounds reheal enough that they wouldn't be reopened with jagged edges that would take even longer to heal.
Didn't he understand that?
But wasn't it her fault for pushing back? She'd slipped into formality, he'd done the same, and even now the part that resonated with her mother, that demanded she be herself, wanted to rise up with fire and passion and remind him of what happened to those who speak so callously. Wanted to be an imp and crazy and wild, to get that coolness to disappear, and replace with laughter again.
But like always, that side was locked down.
Behind four different doors, eight different boxes, and a thousand different chains, and it left her feeling a shell of uncertainty on what she should do to respond proper. He spoke again, this time his voice softening and as he relaxed, she allowed herself to as well. "I know you will be, and that's why I love you. You're my oldest, and dearest friend, and I know you were only trying to help. It's just . . . too soon to let those wounds weep to heal better. Too fresh still, but I'm getting there. In Novus, in Denocte, I'm healing." Her smile did lighten, and for a moment, that impish gin returned briefly, "I hope Novus is ready for what it's sowing, while it works its healing magic though." She added, a tough of play to her tone, and a single chain breaking free from around that fortress protecting the core of herself.
"Speech"
Thoughts
@Huehuecoyotl
Notes: Kinda bleh, sorry.
He hides his emotions as well as she does, but just as he could read her, so could she for him. He was an open book that resonated with her from a shared history . . . for him, she was a book he had helped to write the hardest parts for. She sighed gently, tilting her head at his words, at the clear struggle he was facing, and she managed a soft, gentle smile. A momentary rush of warmth that filled her face, and that shy, impish smile touched her muzzle, "Well, you know me, always holding my secrets close. Can't get away with anything when you show your hand to everyone at the table." She reminded gently, even as she brushed her muzzle reassuringly against his shoulder, "I know you worry Coy, if the situation was reversed, I'd be the same. But I'm still strong, I promise, I'm to going to buckle under any weight. I have things to accomplish in life far before I let that happen." Not that anything could happen with her majority being reached anyways. True and proper fae coming into her own. The immortality was set in, and she knew the proper grasping of her magic wasn't very far behind.
Of course, he always knew just what to say.
Her gaze lowered, her neck bowing slightly, a sigh fluttering quietly from her muzzle as she kicked at the dirt with a forelimb, digging up the soil just a touch, "It's more than there not being an entire kingdom . . . It's my fault it is in ruin. I was foolish, we thought we were envinsible, and in the end it cost me everything. How can they cherish me after I led that destruction through our front gates? How could they forgive me for setting those vile beings on our kingdom?" She asked quietly, how could her people forgive her?
She hadn't yet forgiven herself.
His voice shifted, cool and formal, and she paused herself, before breathing softly, shaking her head, "No . . . I'm sorry, you're just . . . you're trying to help, and it's just been a lot of fresh wounds re-opening before I could properly bandage them." She murmured apologetically, the cool and formal tone having hurt more than his words had before.
They didn't get better, as he kept himself more aloof, more cold.
She did have to smile slightly at his acknowledging she wasn't far gone, but she was his friend, even if she flinched faintly at the cool retort of asking forgiveness for carrying to worry. Her gaze flinching as she looked up, muzzle twisting with almost despair at the words, the tone, "I . . . that's not what . . . . Coy . . ." It didn't get better and she took a step back, followed by another, each sentence another stab through her heart, wanting to find the words to apologize, but not sure what to say, where to go. She couldn't talk about, didn't want to hear about it. She just needed a little time to let the wounds reheal enough that they wouldn't be reopened with jagged edges that would take even longer to heal.
Didn't he understand that?
But wasn't it her fault for pushing back? She'd slipped into formality, he'd done the same, and even now the part that resonated with her mother, that demanded she be herself, wanted to rise up with fire and passion and remind him of what happened to those who speak so callously. Wanted to be an imp and crazy and wild, to get that coolness to disappear, and replace with laughter again.
But like always, that side was locked down.
Behind four different doors, eight different boxes, and a thousand different chains, and it left her feeling a shell of uncertainty on what she should do to respond proper. He spoke again, this time his voice softening and as he relaxed, she allowed herself to as well. "I know you will be, and that's why I love you. You're my oldest, and dearest friend, and I know you were only trying to help. It's just . . . too soon to let those wounds weep to heal better. Too fresh still, but I'm getting there. In Novus, in Denocte, I'm healing." Her smile did lighten, and for a moment, that impish gin returned briefly, "I hope Novus is ready for what it's sowing, while it works its healing magic though." She added, a tough of play to her tone, and a single chain breaking free from around that fortress protecting the core of herself.
"Speech"
Thoughts
@Huehuecoyotl
Notes: Kinda bleh, sorry.
still remains within the sound of silence
