'Cause I'm not in a right state of mind
I just wish I had strength to admit it
My stubbornness will put up a fight
But I don't deserve to win it.
I just wish I had strength to admit it
My stubbornness will put up a fight
But I don't deserve to win it.
Somehow, they end up curled together.
Israfel does not trust herself to hold the cup of tea without the risk of dropping it, and so she hopes that Luvena doesn’t mind that she withholds picking it back up. There is too much on her mind, a roiling mess of confusing thoughts and rising anxieties, and they are both magnified yet calmed when the slighter mare presses herself up against the Sun Daughter’s ivory bulk. It was hard to say if it was out of necessity, driven to act by the sheer chill in the air and their still-damp bodies, or if it was from the desire of something more.
She barely resisted a sardonic snort. Surely not.
The muscles in the joints of her wings twitch and feathers stretch in response to the now-foreign stimulation, fanning outwards for but a moment before settling with a ruffle against her back. Isra freezes, breath halting in her lungs, watching, waiting, wondering… And the tension loosened its hold, a breath of anxiousness leaving her nose in a long, deep exhale as she allowed herself to truly relax into the touch.
An ear tipped towards Luvena as she began to speak, and Isra held her silence to simply listen. There was no rush here, no hurry. She could simply relax, just breathe, and relish in the company of someone she was quite fond of.
The panic of racing the storm was beginning to fade, yet it left her body thrumming with lingering dredges of adrenaline and her heart quaking. The shiver that raced up and down her spine and fled to the edges of her hooves had begun to fade, as the unnatural burning warmth that filled the ivory dun’s body began to burn hotter. It would do wonders for the both of them, really, and Israfel had never found herself more thankful for the innate, unnatural heat of her body temperature than in that very moment.
A pale ear tips forward just as she catches the words that steal her breath. ’You know I died once?’ The image comes again, unbidden, terrible flashes of a broken, battered corpse covered in mud, ichor, and blood… She grimaces against the unwanted siege, teeth grinding, and unconsciously lowers her head to press the velveteen of her rose-kissed muzzle against Luvena’s thin shoulders. It wasn’t a kiss, just… A touch of affection, of understanding, of relief. The rising distress at such an admission gradually begins to wane, however slowly, due to their proximity.
Luvena was fine. She was alive, and safe, and alive, and soon to be warm and dry. No harm would come to her here, Israfel would make sure of it.
Still… The tale was not about her. The Sun Daughter swallowed hard, tongue parched and mouth dry, yet still she did not trust herself enough to reach for the cup. Hearing Luvena speak of her death with such grace and dignity shook something in her core, and only then did Isra find her voice.
“Only by experiencing death can we truly be able to experience life,” she murmured wisely, thinking momentarily of her mother. A shame that she never knew what became of her. “I’m glad you’re here.” Selfishly, so. She didn’t want it any other way.
Sucking in a deep breath, the ivory maiden held it for a few moments. She remained pressed intimately close to Luvena’s smaller, frailer form, letting her greater size and the burning warmth that radiated from her very body soothe the chill from their bones. Letting out the breath, the Sun Daughter spoke gently.
“... I died once, as well. When I was much younger.” Israfel grimaced, the memories unpleasant and painful. “My father was the Sun God of my old home. His blood runs through my veins… Perhaps that’s why I burn a little hotter than your average mare.” She could barely force a small, quirked grin, but it was weak, far less arrogant and more relieved than such a crooked expression typically was. “He turned my fire against me on the night of a terrible storm, like tonight. All I remember is burning, and.... Then nothing.”
“My father meant everything to me, but he sacrificed me, to instead bring life to my half-sister. ’The Second Flame’, they called her. I’m fairly sure she’s dead now.” Bitterly, Israfel hoped so. It was petty, foolish, and immature… But even now, she could not help but feel betrayed by her father.
He was dead now, as well. They all were. The knowledge didn’t make her feel any better.
Breath shuddering, she cleared her throat, pools of glittering vermillion focusing on Luvena’s bright, brilliant turquoise eyes. ”And then I woke up, here, on Novus. I’m glad I did.” And she held Luvena’s beautiful stare, imploring, willing her to understand the words that Israfel herself barely did.
@Luvena
