swallowed up in the sound of my screaming
cannot cease for the fear of silent nights
oh, how i long for the deep sleep dreaming
the goddess of imaginary light
cannot cease for the fear of silent nights
oh, how i long for the deep sleep dreaming
the goddess of imaginary light
There was something about the little coffee colored mare that kept Valan coming back. It was the soothing presence that chased away her self-loathing and struggles. It was the soft look in those pewter eyes that could take her breath away. Or the way her heart was threatened to restart by her gentle touch. But, it's also her knowledge of who she is that keeps Valan at a respectful distance from the beloved little flower beginning to blossom, afraid her own monstrous nature would destroy the delicate being before she could ever realize what she had done.
There was always a lingering part of her that worried Thomasin would wake up one day, and realize she truly was a monster, would deny her company, would chase her away with pitchforks and flame. Still, she reaches towards the little flower, taking silent note of how still she had gone, and her retreat would be just as quick, savoring the scent of Thomasin that still clung to her muzzle from that frail touch, but being careful to never overstep, never give the small mare a reason to fear her . . . She didn't know if she could handle the only creature to accept her in so long . . . fearing her.
Thomasin moves away, and instinctively the vampire takes a step forward, a moth to the flame that was the unknown earthy temptress. Eager to follow her to the ends of the world, if only to spare a few more moments in her company. She is dumb to Thomasin's own struggles, her own mind silently shutting down her own flurry of uncertainties, what-ifs she kept expecting to fall. But as the small mare moves towards the curtains, securing them closed, it's another piece to the cold heart in her chest that is thawed. The simple gesture, for her comfort.
But she didn't come here today to stare at Thomasin, even if she was certain she could look at her for all time, and never grow tired of staring at that facade . . . and perhaps that was what terrified her the most. To be lost in the throws of a first crush after so long, and with another female no less. Her mother would have sent her to a priest, or a nunnery (odd now, to think her mother would send her to the gallows at the first sign of fang, a monster to be hunt down). Her mother always did stress the importance of upholding the family name, the need to be perfect and unflappable . . . Being a vampire likely didn't fit the De'Chrys lines.
Thankfully her family was long dead, and her new family would always support her, even if it was just to support a fleeting crush on a mortal to pure for her dangerous company. It was her own weakness that she couldn't keep herself away. So she allows herself these fleeting moments of bliss, watching the wonderment on the face of the doe-like mare, as the rose ventured to inspect her companion. She smiles to hear Thomasin's words, watching her sniff at the petals of the flower, "For a very long time. He was originally just one of the rose bushes in my parent's estate . . . After the fire claimed the manor, the gardens were in ruins. I came across his bush, and in a desperate bid to hold onto something of my past, something precious to myself and my loved ones, I took it to my master's home. It was years later before he began to truly show any sentience. But from what I understand, the tragedy of the area eventually filled him with enough energy that he became a spirit of sort." She explained patiently.
She smiled at the next questions, nodding lightly, "Yes, he can, and I him, in an odd way. He understands all that is spoken around him with little issue, although his version of communication is typically through mental images, and feelings. He works as a small piece of a larger plant, and can send off his vines elsewhere. While I slept, he had his thorns out, gently scratching those who would walk past him to feed me the blood while I was unable to drink it myself." She added. The vampire moved her head towards the rose, nuzzling the petals that instantly engulfed her muzzle in a hug, "He has been my one constant companion since my death." She admitted, before her head tilted at the other's questions, and had the mare been capable of it, blood would have rushed to Valan's face, "I have been well. Master has been out for a while, so I have the manor to myself at the moment, so it has been a rather quiet and relaxing passing of time." She pauses at the idea of giving up the covering, and she shifts, "You may, but . . . do not fret . . ." The vampire finally admits, pulling the garment from her skin, the slightly odd patchy hues along her back and sides from where the sun had burned her on her mad dash to Rosario visible, "I was not thinking when I felt Rosario stir, and went out into the sun before I remembered it was daylight." She admitted quietly, shifting as if to obscure the unsightly burnt patches of her skin, while striving to make sure Thomasin knew the journey to her home had not been the cause of the injuries.
@Thomasin
in my field of paper flowers
and candy clouds of lullaby
i lie inside myself for hours
and watch my purple sky fly over me
and candy clouds of lullaby
i lie inside myself for hours
and watch my purple sky fly over me
x | x
