Caelum
I'm pulling at my clothes
I'm tryna keep my cool
I know it shows
The little woman wasn't sure what to think yet.
His words to some may have been heartening, but Caelum struggled with her gifts. Struggled with her blessed magic that she associated with her parents. She was proud of her own gifts of healing, of providing life to others and the earth (she had slightly fibbed about what she could grow). With her own active Magic, her abilities could see her growing any number of priceless flowers and vegetation that she could celebrate the growth of.
The flowers that bloomed in her footsteps were something else.
This was her mother's gift. This was what made her mother a royal. This was the reminder that she was the only one left. Besides her brother, but her brother wasn't heir. Her brother wasn't meant to sit on the thrown. She was. These were her gifts to bare. And her own selflessness to not force Regal to fit into that mold, to ensure he could live his life his way, it kept her from ever shaking the weight of her position from her shoulders.
She may hide who she was, but she didn't deny it in her heart.
She was the Light of Summer, the Beloved Flower of Primulan City. The People's Princess, their chosen Queen. And when she was finally accepting of the role, she would submit herself to Summer and become the embodiment of the season. She just couldn't hold her father's title yet. So while this stallion spoke of the flowers being beautiful, should be celebrated, a breath of warmth, her response was to merely laugh.
Chocolate eyes turned towards the shadow man.
"Do not be so judgemental to this season. It is part of the cycle of life. Winter is cold with its snow, but as it comes to a close you'll find it not so dire. Spring will left her weary head, and Winter's snows melt and provide all sorts of water to regrow the earth. Plants that did not survive the cold will nourish the ones that come later. With out Winter, there is no rebirth I'm Spring."
She shifts at the idea of the land being blessed by her.
Such words felt sour to her, so instead she eyes him, "Forgive my bluntness, sir; but you hardly know me well enough to make such assumptions." Even with this denial, her words are delivered gentle enough to not be insulting. But she also had no desire to be wooed by a strangers words, then she spoke of her magic.
She wasn't sure what to think of look in his eyes when she said such.
His words had respect and awe, and she shrugged simply, "It is not so rare here. I know many healers of all branches of the medicinal arts." She responds, once more chucking off his words that others may have blustered up for. She didn't need a stranger stroking her ego.
He introduces himself as a warrior.
She can't help but immediately note this differences between this stallion and the soldier of Denocte she was beginning to get to know well. This being was far more open than Boleyn, who obscured even his own thoughts. But Boleyn also held no filter, would push and prod at her buttons until she was retorting back. She could still remember the surprise she felt when. He'd brush his muzzle against her side, before announcing her chosen garment that day as 'cute' as if that had been the reason for his electric touch.
Boleyn was a fun enigma, Jarek was unknown.
She also had no words to offer at the tale of where he came from, his words and story. Paetially due to the odd, and uncomfortable similarities of her own. "I am sorry for your loss," She offers quietly, but simply. Unable to offer anything else, unwilling to acknowledge her own lost kingdom - only Seb knew in a round about way. Luvena and Coy knew the stories . . . And her cousin mourned with her. She wouldn't tell a stranger of her own heartbreak tale.
Honesty was nice, but required trust.
Caelum was sparing with that.
"Speech"
Thoughts
@Jarek
Notes:
His words to some may have been heartening, but Caelum struggled with her gifts. Struggled with her blessed magic that she associated with her parents. She was proud of her own gifts of healing, of providing life to others and the earth (she had slightly fibbed about what she could grow). With her own active Magic, her abilities could see her growing any number of priceless flowers and vegetation that she could celebrate the growth of.
The flowers that bloomed in her footsteps were something else.
This was her mother's gift. This was what made her mother a royal. This was the reminder that she was the only one left. Besides her brother, but her brother wasn't heir. Her brother wasn't meant to sit on the thrown. She was. These were her gifts to bare. And her own selflessness to not force Regal to fit into that mold, to ensure he could live his life his way, it kept her from ever shaking the weight of her position from her shoulders.
She may hide who she was, but she didn't deny it in her heart.
She was the Light of Summer, the Beloved Flower of Primulan City. The People's Princess, their chosen Queen. And when she was finally accepting of the role, she would submit herself to Summer and become the embodiment of the season. She just couldn't hold her father's title yet. So while this stallion spoke of the flowers being beautiful, should be celebrated, a breath of warmth, her response was to merely laugh.
Chocolate eyes turned towards the shadow man.
"Do not be so judgemental to this season. It is part of the cycle of life. Winter is cold with its snow, but as it comes to a close you'll find it not so dire. Spring will left her weary head, and Winter's snows melt and provide all sorts of water to regrow the earth. Plants that did not survive the cold will nourish the ones that come later. With out Winter, there is no rebirth I'm Spring."
She shifts at the idea of the land being blessed by her.
Such words felt sour to her, so instead she eyes him, "Forgive my bluntness, sir; but you hardly know me well enough to make such assumptions." Even with this denial, her words are delivered gentle enough to not be insulting. But she also had no desire to be wooed by a strangers words, then she spoke of her magic.
She wasn't sure what to think of look in his eyes when she said such.
His words had respect and awe, and she shrugged simply, "It is not so rare here. I know many healers of all branches of the medicinal arts." She responds, once more chucking off his words that others may have blustered up for. She didn't need a stranger stroking her ego.
He introduces himself as a warrior.
She can't help but immediately note this differences between this stallion and the soldier of Denocte she was beginning to get to know well. This being was far more open than Boleyn, who obscured even his own thoughts. But Boleyn also held no filter, would push and prod at her buttons until she was retorting back. She could still remember the surprise she felt when. He'd brush his muzzle against her side, before announcing her chosen garment that day as 'cute' as if that had been the reason for his electric touch.
Boleyn was a fun enigma, Jarek was unknown.
She also had no words to offer at the tale of where he came from, his words and story. Paetially due to the odd, and uncomfortable similarities of her own. "I am sorry for your loss," She offers quietly, but simply. Unable to offer anything else, unwilling to acknowledge her own lost kingdom - only Seb knew in a round about way. Luvena and Coy knew the stories . . . And her cousin mourned with her. She wouldn't tell a stranger of her own heartbreak tale.
Honesty was nice, but required trust.
Caelum was sparing with that.
"Speech"
Thoughts
@Jarek
Notes:
My cheeks are turning red
I'm searching for the words inside my head
art by bingo
