The night was cold: a kind of cold that sat underneath your skin and made its way into your bones. A kind of cold that demanded to be felt with your whole being. The sky was a particular shade of gray, sooty but washed-out, it was a tell-tale sign of the weather to come. Frost clung to whatever vegetation was still alive in the dark of winter.
Alone, the milky shape of a unicorn appeared. Dark waves of hair fell on either side of her neck, providing little insulation to her fragile body. Her winter coat had barely managed to grow in – all the warm, coffee-house colors of her skin were still there, just a little fuzzier than usual.
It began to snow; soft, fat flakes made their gentle descent from the muddy gray sky. She hesitated, a quiet sigh slipping through her pink lips as she turned her head to scope her surroundings – first to her left, then to her right. She was alone, blissfully alone. An unintelligible simper pulled at the corners of her mouth. She closed her eyes, breathed in the night air so deeply it made her lungs ache, then opened her mouth just wide enough to slip out her tongue and catch a single snowflake. Quickly she shut it, and in some foreign and childlike wonder, stood completely still so that she could relish the way the flake stung her before melting away and disappearing forever. Thomasin could stay there forever in that moment, wondering where the water she swallowed came from – did it journey far to reach her? Was it once running free in the rivers north of her homeland? Or perhaps it came from the ocean, once tangled up in the gills of a happy fish? If only she could taste its source.
After wistfully dreaming about faraway lands whose names she would never know, she opened her sad eyes to the path she stood on, watching the flurries begin to stick to the ancient stones that showed her the way. Straightening her posture, she moved forward towards the foreboding shape of a fortress.
The large keep would have turned most visitors away – but not the citizens of Denocte.
With a gaping entrance that opened like a hungry mouth, stone walls that climbed to the heavens, and a glow coming from inside that was akin to fire in a dragon’s throat, even Thomasin would find herself nervous to approach from time to time. But not tonight, for she was homesick, and seeking guidance from the powers that were much mightier than herself. The orange candlelight from the brick windows flickered and blinked, like curious eyes, watching the wayward lamb make her way inside. Thomasin, despite her constant apprehension, would always make herself at home in the Night Court of Caligo. Strangers would feel as if the keep might devour them – but this little lady would argue that they were nothing but inviting.
Tonight, the walls were alive from the luminescence of the fires; alien shadows played and skipped along the mortars, balancing on the gables, beckoning Thomasin to come closer. Every time she came here, it felt like the first time: magical. This place was familiar to her; these walls the best secret-keepers who were always willing to listen to Thomasin and all her woes – no matter how silly they might be.
She smiled a small, grateful smile, before making her way down the foyer to the center of the keep, where a large statue of Caligo stood erect, unchanged by time, each curve and edge of her shape still in perfect condition. Candles and tributes lay at the feet of the sculpt: flowers of different colors and sizes, jewelry and precious stones, pictures of loved ones. Thomasin admired each possession before setting down a small basket she had been toting with her. Removing the wrap, she revealed an assortment of muffins, along with some of foraging finds from earlier in the day: a handful of mushrooms, a few sprigs of rosemary, and a feather from a bird that was unknown to Thomasin, but nonetheless, pretty.
“Good evening, Caligo,” her voice was barely audible, just a half-step above a whisper as she began to lay her bounty out. “Forgive me, your muffins have gone cold –“ A familiar vice ensnared her throat. She was beginning to well with tears before gently shaking her head.
Was she actually crying over cold pastries? Maybe. Perhaps that is what it would look like if you were on the outside looking in. But deep within her heart, the mare knew she was upset over more than just her tribute tonight – although the temperature of her muffins was most certainly the tipping point.
After placing her arrangement, she folded her legs and laid down at base of the altar. With glossy, gray eyes, she looked up at the face of her Demi-Goddess.
“I could use some of your grace tonight, Caligo, if you might have any to spare.”
The heart in her exposed ribcage slowed its cadence as the lamb regained her composure, closing her eyes to begin her prayers. A few silent minutes went by, nothing but the wind whistling in the empty halls of the court. Once Thomasin was finished, she began to sing softly, a sweet and saccharine song that spilled from her mouth like honey, filling these lonely walls with a gospel that would make this place feel just a little less empty.
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"talking." thinking.
tagged: for any and all ~
vibing to: X
