the bitterness of winter or the sweetness of spring
you are an artist and your heart is your masterpiece
There was no shortage of wild embarrassment as Thomasin had realized her grave mistake. The elegant, moon-bathed lady before her was not at all a concubine like she had so wrongfully assumed. The tiny flower nymph was slapped in the face with bright red cheeks. How dare she, in her self-righteous tirade, make such terrible assumption.
“Mis- I mean, Valan, I am so regretfully sorry I meant you no disrespect! I am –“ Thomasin halted in her train of speech as she heard laughter rise from the winter flame. It was such a charming sound: if laughter could be a color, Thomasin imagined that Valan’s would be silver, a shimmer of dancing light. It was pleasing to realize that the other knew it was an honest misunderstanding.
She was surprised when her own quiet laughter joined the choral. Though it did not last as long as she would have wished, for the mare thought she had caught a glimpse of sharp teeth in the mouth of the joyful lady. She blinked rapidly, sure that she had just made another mistake.
And then the tone changed: the atmosphere becoming stale, the air was now heavy as Valan began to speak. She denied being a product of the Heavens, mentioned that upon her death she had become realigned with a different breed of nightlife; perhaps insinuating that she herself was a different breed altogether. “Surely you jest –“ She mused quietly, more to herself than to the other. How could she have died but still breathe air? Still stand intact, with her marbled skin untouched by decay?
Monstrous. Murder. Wretched. All these words tied a twisting knot in the pit of Thomasin’s stomach. She remained dead silent as she listened. Caught like a deer in the headlights, transfixed; time seeming to stretch between them. A sort of numbness began to tickle her skin, seeping through her pores and running its course through her veins. Thomasin audibly swallowed, suddenly very aware of how vulnerable she was.
Run.
She was scared. Fight or flight was beginning to manifest in her body, but for some reason, she could not will her delicate legs to move.
Pick up your feet. Run to the entrance.
Her gaze darted in the direction of the doorway – back through the foyer, past the galvanized firepits. She could run it blind if needed to, having visited this great hall so many times before, her muscle memory would surely take over. Tears began to rim the edge of her eyes as panic infiltrated her body. Her heart began to beat at a frighteningly quick cadence, so hard that it trembled the foliage in her ribcage – as if desperately trying to escape the very roots and moss that held it in place.
You s t u p i d baby why won’t you run!
Paralyzed, stupefied with fear, Thomasin knew that even if she could find the power to pivot and sprint away, that she would not be able to outrun her. A nervous string of giggles crawled out of her throat; her stare finally locked on to Caligo’s stone façade. Perhaps if she wasn’t scared stiff, she would kneel and beg for protection, she would cry out to be spared, that she had only just started to really live.
Knowing her options were limited, she placed all her bets on appealing to this pale woman’s better nature. “You must forgive me again; I am not sure what kind of creature you are talking about. I have been quite sheltered. . . “ Her voice quivered as she was reminded of the predatory reflection she witnessed in Valan’s pink eyes. Sure, Thomasin had heard stories of strange shapes stealing away your blood – your life – in the deep of night. To be honest though, Thomasin never stuck around to listen to those tales. She never did like scary stories.
Although she was beginning to believe they weren’t stories; they were warnings.
A deep, rattling breath escaped her. She turned her face back to the winter flame. “I do not question why the wolf does what he does in order to survive. He is also a work of the Gods. Just as the tiger, or the mighty Gryphons in the mountains. They are not monsters for simply existing, Valan.”
She swallowed again, her knobby knees slightly shivering in growing anticipation of a chase. Despite the threat of her immenient crying, she spoke on. “They still deserve my praise. As do you. I see no monster here. Just a beautiful creature who has shown me nothing but kindness, who has kept my company instead of disposing it.” A falter in her gentle voice cause it to crack with emotion. Disposed. She was reminded of her breakable morality, knowing how easily it could be taken from her.
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"talking." thinking.
tagged: @Valan sorry for the delay!
vibing to: X
