Jarek
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Here behind the curtain lies a darkness feeding
Pooled inside, in hunger cries, and still it's eating
Everything I had to hide is all on my sleeve
And behind the curtain lies my soul, I’m bleeding
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------The festival had turned into a bitter disappointment. The forms of others seemed to slip past him continuously, writhing in their hedonistic enjoyment. Mares, stallions, creatures of all kinds interacted around him. It felt as though the world had lost its balance, and he had experienced a less than stellar interaction with Torielle. She didn’t seem to want to be around him, and he couldn’t piece together as to why that might be.
He felt like he had tried to provide her with all the reasons why they were fated. She obviously didn’t believe a single thing he had said. She had fled his side in both their short interactions. Each moment striking further into his heart his obsession with her, the further she slipped from his grasp the more he desired her. Nothing else in this world held significance. Nothing else mattered.
Until they were side by side, running in the night. He felt that she was the balance he required, that was why the gods had driven him here. He suspected his mother would be fond of Torielle. He felt as though he knew her, they had been born on this very plane for each other. The smell of smoke reminded him of his mothers cooking. The joy of the citizens around him, reminded him of what his home had been like before he had lost his mother.
He stood in deep introspection, icey blue eyes staring into the dancing flickering flames. The desert devils kicking up their heels and tormenting him at his inadequacies. Taunting that they had clearly chosen the wrong stallion for the job, that he may as well just not bother. Others snidely remarked that he simply had to try harder, that she was unimpressed with his lack of effort. Other whispering voices simply told him that maybe there were others that would like him better.
It was difficult at times to piece together the separate whispers of the desert gods. The devils and gods were much the same. They were different forms of the same grains of sand of the desert back home. They too had traveled all this way with him. He wondered what they would form to look like for Torielle or others if he could show them. What things would they whisper to her?
@Veil Nebula
