Rain mingles with seawater spat out by the wind; it tastes like tears, she thinks absently. Her thoughts feel hollow and distant, like echoes from a voice that isn’t her own. Virun wants to scream. She wants to scream, but she can’t scream. She can’t move, either. She can just lay on the sand, limp and tangled like a broken piece of driftwood, and just as washed-out. She feels as though she lingers somewhere outside of her body, in darkness – but the gentle lap of cold water against her legs tells her that dark as the world might seem, she is still within it.
“Celes…” The word trembles past her lips; it is said with the understanding that no response will come.
I can’t believe you left me.
There is an anger in her thoughts that shocks Virun, the sort of anger that leaves her trembling. (But maybe it’s just the nip of the wind.) She still can’t believe that Celes lied to her, much less that it would leave her alone in this foreign world. Is it really so shocking, Virun? You’re useless without- No. She wouldn’t be without her magic if Celes hadn’t left her, just like she’d always been told that it would. Nothing could ever love you, Virun. You’re reliant and needy, like a child. Even a monster with no one else to turn to couldn’t stand to-
She quiets the voices in her head, tucks them down deep, deep within herself and seals them tight; she needs to be reasonable if she doesn’t want to die. Would it even- If she doesn’t move before the tide comes in, she’ll drown. Her wings are more than strong enough to support her, and it is easier to fly than to walk because she can feel the air move around her, but she doesn’t like flying blind in storms, much less with no idea of the composition of the landscape around her. If she has to, she can try to keep herself aloft until the tide goes back out, but she doesn’t think that she can support herself for that long. She could also move towards some part of the shore that the waves would not touch, but, when she tries to move her right wing, she feels a sharp jolt of pain race down her spine. It’s definitely not broken, but it feels like she’s torn a muscle, and, when she pulls it back into place, she feels the hot, sticky sensation of blood running down her shoulder and is momentarily overwhelmed by the bitter stench of copper. Virun burns.
Without her wings, she has no option but to stumble to her hooves. She sways to her feet, stomach lurching and head spinning, and nearly topples over; she’s hit with a sudden rush of desperate hunger and thirst. Virun doesn’t know how long she spent between worlds, and she knows that time flows differently there, but she feels any strength she might have gathered drain from her abruptly, as though she flipped a switch. She steadies herself by flaring out her wings, though this sends another jab of pain rippling along her back. Virun swallows it down, biting her tongue.
Now, she only needs to get further inland…
“Only.” What a ridiculous understatement.
It isn’t that hard, she tells herself, but it feels like a lie. She busies herself with untangling the thick locks of her mane from her legs and grimaces when she feels how bony they are. Maybe it would be best to just- No. NO. Virun tells herself that she just needs to stay alive long enough to find Celes. When Celes comes back for her everything will be-
A voice. Gods, a voice, seeping concern and shock; for a moment, she thinks that the accent sounds familiar, like…Stolthet? But no, that’s impossible – Celes said they were in a faraway land, and Celes wouldn’t lie to her. Even though Celes left you, Virun?
“H-huh?” Her voice comes out as a choked stammer, head whipping wildly as though to pinpoint the source of the noise; she doesn’t understand her own reflex, considering that she won’t see anything even if she does look right at whoever just spoke to her. “A-am I…?” She trails off, as though still struggling to process his words. (She assumes that whoever is speaking is a he – the voice sounds distinctly masculine.) “I…will be fine, thank you.” Even though she’d like nothing more than to break down into a sobbing, pitiful heap at the his hooves, it would be rude to force her emotional turmoil onto a complete stranger. No, you won’t be fine. “I…where are we? Who are you?” She loathes feeling so pathetic and desperate in front of anyone, worst of all a stranger.
Cold wind ruffles through her feathers, but she barely notices at all.
all my love won't bring you back to me and oh my god I'm wasting away
PULLED FLOWERS AT MY FEET, LOST IN THE WIND
@@Torstein <3
