M O I R A
she looks into her mirror,
wishing someone could hear her, so loud
With each fallen pebble of sand, their time together grows shorter, each second stretching and bending, until he speaks, he moves, he lives. These people, she remembers from time to time, are not mere paintings or patients. Just as she does, they, too, live and breathe. Eik awakens within her the yearning to know more of him, of the Easy where he calls home. When orange eyes turn toward the desert, they see only an expanse with few plants littering the surface, dunes in the distant raising and falling, and an emptiness that echoes the hole in her soul. Giving her a warning, sharply she jerks her attention back to the dappled man, the kind man, the gentle man. What causes such concern? Moira longs to ask more questions, but even she cannot argue with the pull of slumber which she's sought all night, and he seems not quite eager, really rather reluctant, but wanting to get back on his way.
It is a soft sigh that slips past her lips, a small smile that tugs the corners of her lips up, a small nod acknowledging his request. "That makes it rather hard to surprise you then, doesn't it?" amusement drips in the words, a teasing note tickling her throat, but it makes her sad. Surprises, by nature, Moira herself does not enjoy receiving. However, if it would make another smile or happier, she would not mind surprising another. "Of course I will do ask you ask, Eik. Perhaps one day I will show you the Court where I live." Rolling over the thought, she decides he would be a rather lovely image there. A light in the dark, a star to brighten the hallways. Eik would be kingly there, too, striding down corridors and through the stalls of the court. As plain as he thinks he is, she sees him as something far more, something almost magical.
Quietly, a shiver of pleasure slips up her spine, a blush creeps over her face, when at last he tells her he would not forget her. Rising in her throat is a lump, unwelcome, unbidden, and her eyes are wet for but a moment. Covering tumultuous emotions with a tittering laugh, the phoenix looks to the ground to regain her composure. "I dearly hope to see you again, sometime, Eik. May your ancestors guide you in your quest." Dipping her head, the woman turns toward the mountain range he so kindly pointed her toward. It is much too far to make the trek right now, in her harried state, and so she turns once more to go back from whence she came. Back to Asterion and Dusk and the Cliffs where dreams are whispered to the seas. Moira does not look back, but she wishes to for one last look.
@Eik ;u; presh babes must part. I hope they do meet again soon !!!
wishing someone could hear her, so loud
With each fallen pebble of sand, their time together grows shorter, each second stretching and bending, until he speaks, he moves, he lives. These people, she remembers from time to time, are not mere paintings or patients. Just as she does, they, too, live and breathe. Eik awakens within her the yearning to know more of him, of the Easy where he calls home. When orange eyes turn toward the desert, they see only an expanse with few plants littering the surface, dunes in the distant raising and falling, and an emptiness that echoes the hole in her soul. Giving her a warning, sharply she jerks her attention back to the dappled man, the kind man, the gentle man. What causes such concern? Moira longs to ask more questions, but even she cannot argue with the pull of slumber which she's sought all night, and he seems not quite eager, really rather reluctant, but wanting to get back on his way.
It is a soft sigh that slips past her lips, a small smile that tugs the corners of her lips up, a small nod acknowledging his request. "That makes it rather hard to surprise you then, doesn't it?" amusement drips in the words, a teasing note tickling her throat, but it makes her sad. Surprises, by nature, Moira herself does not enjoy receiving. However, if it would make another smile or happier, she would not mind surprising another. "Of course I will do ask you ask, Eik. Perhaps one day I will show you the Court where I live." Rolling over the thought, she decides he would be a rather lovely image there. A light in the dark, a star to brighten the hallways. Eik would be kingly there, too, striding down corridors and through the stalls of the court. As plain as he thinks he is, she sees him as something far more, something almost magical.
Quietly, a shiver of pleasure slips up her spine, a blush creeps over her face, when at last he tells her he would not forget her. Rising in her throat is a lump, unwelcome, unbidden, and her eyes are wet for but a moment. Covering tumultuous emotions with a tittering laugh, the phoenix looks to the ground to regain her composure. "I dearly hope to see you again, sometime, Eik. May your ancestors guide you in your quest." Dipping her head, the woman turns toward the mountain range he so kindly pointed her toward. It is much too far to make the trek right now, in her harried state, and so she turns once more to go back from whence she came. Back to Asterion and Dusk and the Cliffs where dreams are whispered to the seas. Moira does not look back, but she wishes to for one last look.
@
