She stood for some time within the silence and passing time’s still embrace. So consumed in the moment, she missed the sudden removal of solitude, missing fully that she had never truly been alone in the first place. It was truly a mistake, to wander into the presence of another; it could have been a trap, and she lay easy prey, ensnared within the grasp of distraction. Thankfully she stood in the presence of a kind stranger, not an enemy, but she didn’t know that much, not in the moment the words hit her ears.
’Do you believe?’
Cloven hooves clattered as she twisted, her muscles tensing, her horn becoming a wielded sword. Silver eyes set upon the form as it emerged, standing framed elegantly within the doorway, and the moment she realized who stood before her, she felt embarrassment flush beneath her star-swept pelt. She released the tension in a soft exhale, disarming herself. In a gentle graceful motion, she dropped her head, leaned back, and folded a foreleg, presenting herself to her queen in a graceful bow. “Queen Florentine, my apologies,” she began, attempting to excuse her threatening posture. Standing again to her full height, she continued. “I hate to admit I’ve been a little easy to surprise recently.”
Turning her head again, she looked back to the depicted form. “Do I believe? I’m not familiar with what the art depicts. Is this the patron deity of your, our, herd?” A frown tugged at her lips, and again she felt embarrassed. Her total lack of understanding and knowledge about this place again was threatening to get the best of her. And even beyond that, would she believe? The gods had been real where she had come from. Who would she be to question them here? “I’m new here, and ashamed to say I haven’t quite learned as much about the land yet as I had hoped. I’m currently trying to teach myself, but haven’t found much luck. Though, to answer your question, in my previous home, the gods had a heavy hand among the mortals, proving their existance. So I suppose I believe anything is possible.” Eyes then move to the woman, draped in soft honey gold and adorned with feathers. “Do you?”
She gave a halfhearted smile at the jest, absentmindedly shifting her weight and pressing the hoof of her previously injured leg hard against the flatness of the stone floor. “It’s healing well. I’m thinking it was just a bad sprain, thankfully no breaks. Though I wanted to follow the messengers to Solterra, it was probably for the best that I remained. It was hard enough racing back here, I don’t think I would have made it to our boundaries, let alone back to the desert.” That much was true- she had felt trapped for the days following her announcement, but knew it was better to remain grounded for a short time, rather than force herself lame. “It’s impeded some of my daily runs; I’ve had to slow my pace and be more cautious on it, but all is well.”
Was all well? Her body had healed, but more weighed upon her beyond physical injury. The harsher truth remained buried in her cheek, how she hadn’t found her place, was beginning to think that she never would. But that wasn’t the new sovereign’s burden to bear. She had enough to worry about. She had a kingdom to rule. Why should Ki’irha bother her with the frivolous problems of a commoner? “Hopefully they took our messengers with open arms, and are recovering well from their loss. That was quite the way to ring in your coronation. It was handled with grace.” The complement was honest and well deserved, but when it left the star girl’s lips she hoped it wouldn’t appear as though she were sucking up.
Letting out a gentle sigh, she smiled, but still, somehow she appeared tired. “It is nice to meet you officially. This room, this building, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I apologize if I’ve stumbled upon your quarters and just let myself in.” With that she fell silent again, stormy gaze watching the petals dance across the stone floor, and for a moment, wished it was that easy to float away, carried only by the softest blow of the wind.
- when a shooting star streaks through the blackness, turning night into day, make a wish and think of me -
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