she was half human..
half universe.
Never forget..
Every gods-damn pink blossom was a droplet of her blood on a blanket of white snow.
..how your ego and your secret lust for the approval of others..
Aislinn fell to her knees — a snuffed star in her goddess’ galaxy, drowning in the words that had come to haunt her every step. She crashes like a comet falling to earth; a bundle of wrapped, bloody bandages and petals that float around her like soft feathers. Feathers that she no longer had, for they had been ripped from her. Brutally. Intimately. Cruelly.
..would be your downfall, stormsinger.
Oxygen swells within her breast, her lungs, but is caught within her throat. She cannot breathe; she is choking on the sand of the Solterran’s scent, on the searing burn of snapping bones within her wing. Plucked, broken, bruised. Grounded and chained to the earth. The ground swallows her as she falls, her legs splaying out beneath her as she tumbles like a dead weight. All around her, spring’s flowers bloom in a riot of rose and yellows and violet. The smell of their sun-sweet perfume should have filled her lungs with their beauty, and her eyes should have marveled at the world’s remarkable regrowth. Instead, the blue of her gaze is unseeing except for one thing — white, brilliant white. And the bright crimson of her blood as she fell unconscious into winter’s embrace.
The stormsinger does not know how wild she appears, how lost.
Please, I mean you no harm.
Delicate ears flicker as she catches a flapping of wings. Aislinn blinks upwards, searching for the source of such a sound. Sunbeams shine through the trees that cover her, shining in glittering gold, outlining the flapping of white wings. Her breathing slows — for she can breathe again — as she watches the owl soar to her companion. There was something missing; the sound of silver bells wrapped around tender ankles. But it was that owl that grabs her from the depths of her memory. The light dancing upon her golden feathers, dappling upon them through the leaves.*
She breathes deeply. Long and slow. Exhaling. Not once did her gaze break from the barn owl as the source of the voice moves. ”Beautiful,” she whispers.
I’m going to approach. Do not be afraid.
Aislinn stiffens, if only momentarily as she prepares for the man to step closer to her. The muscles beneath her skin clench, stretches of midnight against the bright green of the grass poking up around her. Sweat begins to bead from the tension in her gut, her chest. Burning. She coughs, focusing on her breath. Easy.. in and out. Slow and soft. Remembering to hold it, capturing the sweet air for a moment, before releasing. Her healer’s words finding her here.
But in this moment, her gaze is upon the barn owl and the stranger as he steps into her field of view. The flames of her eyes are dull, yet still they sparkle with the light reflecting upon his wings. His coat. Just like the spun gold of sunlight and summer. In a blink, she finally meets his eyes; there is a warmth there, in those pools of emerald. Her world is no longer bloodied snow, or pink blossoms. She grasps, desperately, onto his gaze, and to the sacred owl at his side.
”Forgive me, please,” she rasps, finding her voice. ”I’m not usually like this.”
All at once, Aislinn realizes that she is bound to the earth below her. Her legs curl beneath her, strength faltering unsteadily. How long had she been laying here? Again she coughs, sniffling against the suddenly heavy stench of the blossoms crushed around her. She dares not look upon them, in fear of being transported to the snowy Steppe once more. Instead, she does search his face — finding no trace of familiarity through his gold and starlight and earthiness. However gentle he may be.
Her wariness has grown since she had been clipped of her wing.
”I’m sorry, but I do not know your face. Who are you?”
@Somnus ♡ -flails- I love him oml
P.S. I’m sorry again for the random addition of Alba xD
* paragraph inspired by the Japanese word komorebi, which means “sunlight that filters through the leaves of trees.”
