CYRENE .
per aspera ad astra
The throbbing pain in her breast had abated—curiosity from the boy’s unexpected arrival had stemmed the monster, for now. Though, it was a shame that she was still so cold. Subduing her shivers as best she could, Cyrene rested her tawny eyes steadfastly on the boy’s wavering expression as she stayed kneeled by his side.
"I am glad,” she replied brightly, delicately disregarding his obvious discomfort. He was young, and naivety still sparked off him in every downturned glance and stuttered syllable—yet he was teetering on the edge of adolescence and adulthood, and she would give him the space he needed to collect himself. As she peered into his clear, emerald eyes, Cyrene recognized a hardness that reflected her own. He already carries a burden far too great for his age.
She did not let her concern show as she flashed another of her classic, rosy smiles towards him. Judging by his surprise of her telekinesis, he must've not originated from these lands. A foreigner overwhelmed by unfamiliar surroundings, just like herself. Cyrene gently lowered the cup of cider towards him before speaking.
"I arrived just a few days ago, so this is quite astonishing to me as well. It’s called telekinesis, I think—the locals mentioned it quite often.” He gazed at the cider warily as she offered it to him, and Cyrene felt a flutter of fondness bloom inside her at his mumbled clarification.
"I’m afraid I cannot charge for cider that I did not pay for myself. What a pity...” Nymph eyes twinkled like the aurum constellations of her wings, as she paused in mock consideration of his payment. “Ah! I know—if you accompany me to the festival, I will consider all debts paid.” Nimble legs raised her slender frame up with ease, and as Cyrene stood, snow cascaded off her wings and hair like a crystallized waterfall.
"And if you come, there’s much more where that came from,” she remarked, noticing the ferocity in which he gulped down the frothy drink. Her keen eyes lingered on the numerous cuts and scrapes that dotted the boy’s silvery body, drops of crimson red staining the unblemished snow like ink on a fresh page. Yet she knew they were not serious, having sustained many herself on a regular basis; and she would not fuss over him like a nursemaid. The boy had already taken enough of a dip to his still fragile sense of confidence.
"My name is Cyrene. What is yours, cider scrounger?” she quipped, amusement dancing in her lion eyes. With a casual touch of her velveteen nose to his side, the starlight girl whispered to the magic within her to subtly aid him to his feet as he stood. This much, she could not keep herself from doing.
She did not let her concern show as she flashed another of her classic, rosy smiles towards him. Judging by his surprise of her telekinesis, he must've not originated from these lands. A foreigner overwhelmed by unfamiliar surroundings, just like herself. Cyrene gently lowered the cup of cider towards him before speaking.
@Saoirse | notes: saoirse is precious ;u;
