your heart is a wild thing
made of stardust and thunder and hurricanes
made of stardust and thunder and hurricanes
Who told you so?
The lullaby hummed and rose and fell along the breeze coming across the sea, the chords of her song melting and fading into sweet nothings that should have been long forgotten and unheard. But no, fate did not work in such a way.. for unbeknownst to her, the sad-sweet lullaby had drifted to another's ears. Blissful slumber fell between outreached fingers as sandman's dust was blinked away from her eyes. Her exhaustion plagued every nerve, every stretch of muscle of her strong and delicate frame; her body reaping the aftermath of her chaotic heart and stormy emotions. She is a hurricane made woman; a cyclone of aching sorrow and bleeding regret that burned through her like a toxic wildfire.
That told me so.
She choked, only momentarily, as her orbs that were normally bright blue flames against the ebony of her skin dulled, losing their light. Slowly, she blinked back the salty tears that threatened to spill, to overwhelm her more than she already was. Instead, a smooth voice sliced through the night-turned-morning breeze, soft and lovely and entirely unexpected, but not unwanted.
That is a beautiful melody.
The stormsinger's aria ceased as she looks up to find the source of such a voice, eyes falling on a creature that could only described as ethereal. Unreal. Beautiful, in all sense of the word. Through tired eyes, Aislinn can see — can truly see — the gold of her coat like stirred sweet milk and honey, wild tangles of mane that flutter in the breeze with blooms of lavender falling all around her. She could have been a goddess of spring triumphant; with her delicate stature and the perfume of newly-blossomed flowers heavy and thick and lovely against the strong salt scent of the sea. Aislinn is at a loss for words as she takes in every minute detail; her sorrow eating at her from the inside out, but she is still starstruck all the same.
You must be from the Night Court, for none sing so often, nor as beautifully, as they.
Aislinn remembers her place then, her purpose, her reasoning. Her gaze is torn away from the golden woman, once more staring off into the space where the sky and sea meet along the horizon. She finds that she craves to be there; far, far away from this place where her heart had been broken and the world seemed to burn everywhere she turned. Instead, the stormsinger gives the younger woman a wistful smile. A chord of curiosity strikes her as she goes back to turn over the stranger's words.. for she realizes that the woman speaks of her home with a familiarity unlike any others from a foreign court that she had encountered. How could this woman of flowers and cream and honey know of such things — that the children of Calligo were blessed by song and music and revelry?
"Yes," she replied simply, her voice humming the last notes of her lullaby. She inhaled, breathing the intoxicating, wondrous scent of flowers that overwhelmed her own of woodsmoke and cinnamon flames. Together, they were burning pyres and calming lavender on a sea breeze. The stormsinger turned to face the woman who had laid down on the grass expanse next to her; memorizing her beauty, her kind words, and her voice. Aislinn does not realize how the stranger averts her alluring gaze of amethyst gems; for she is preoccupied, focusing on her breathing and the tears that were ever close to falling down the planes of her refined face. Her heart beat madly, untamed for something that had been torn to shreds; held together with nothing more than a few meager strings.
Are you well? Are you here simply to rest? I can get you a healer if you so wish.
A laugh escapes her, a mournful, music sound that fades quickly amongst the crashing of waves far, far below. She turned, no longer facing the stranger, no longer able to meet her gaze at such kind, genuine offers. Her mane of starlight and ink billows around her eyes, hiding the shed of a single tear loosing from beneath closed lids, as she replies:
"Not unless they are gifted with a cure for a broken heart."
@
-hands box of tissues and grabs one for self-
I'm not crying you're crying :'(
"Aislinn speech."
