Caelum
I'm pulling at my clothes
I'm tryna keep my cool
I know it shows
The air was still, silent.
It'd been still and silent for a while. A landscape of ivory. Perfect. Untouched. Unblemished. Pure, and innocent. Vibrant and full of life. Hiding death and deceit. Winter was the cruel hand of fate, tricking you with the way the snow glimmers like diamonds to obscure the way the world dies, animals struggle to make it through with limited food. The proper time of when only the strong, and the prepared make it. Caelum knows she's 'strong and prepared' because her species aren't victims to their intentions, their baser urges. They think, and speak, and plan and do. While others are shocked by the turn of the season, and that first snow, horses, equine - they prepare for the approach of winter. Herbs were gathered in advance by medics. Artisans stocking up on their goods. Stores of food so none go without.
Yet, all Caelum sees is what's beneath.
Beneath that picturesque scape, the ground is barren. As the snow drifts down, so romantically, so peacefully; small animals shiver, quiver, trying to stay warm to not freeze to death. Small animals, so desperate for survival. Caelum finds little joy in winter because she's seen the less fortunate who struggle to make it through. She had walked upon the less fortunate equine once upon a time. Draping blankets over tiny backs, offering food to those already weak from an escaped life of slavery. Winter had been the hardest time them . . . Winter had always been hard. Winter had been when she'd lost it all too. She had come to find no beauty in this time. Where others saw a white blanket of unbroken snow, beautiful, vibrant, pure. Caelum remembers walking into the heart of the Summer Court. She remembers seeing those lumps buried under snow, the knowledge that the ivory coating was proof before she'd even seen them, that her parents had passed with most of their citizens. While a ruler of Summer sat on the throne, the land was in a constant state of Summer. The moment her father had perished, so had that connection to Summer.
Did her people panic, or mourn, when the first snow fell?
She wanders deeper through these non-court lands. She doesn't know what she'll find, but . . . she just needed time away. So she'd set off. Set off, and meandered. What had been morning, had turned into afternoon, and now was approaching evening. Soon, the night would fall, the moon would rise, and when it did, the world would seem aglow by the snow reflecting the light of the moon. As bright as day, in a way only snow could produce. She didn't care to see it, she wouldn't find it beautiful, because her memories cast shadows in the snow, and that pure light turned into a blood bath the longer she stared. Her gaze was conflicted behind her ivory mane, wondering if perhaps she should head back home, to Night Court, settle into her beloved shop, close the doors against the snow, curl up beneath a blanket, and wish for warmth, for summer.
If she would just embrace it, she could have it.
But her heart refused to acknowledge her birthright. Her people may call her Queen of Summer, but she wasn't ready to be the embodiment. Not yet. That was still supposed to be her father. Delicate hooves clicked against stone, and she pauses, as if only just now realizing she'd stopped flying at some point. The snow was high around her knees, cold, chilling. She glances back and can see the path of flowers that had grown up with each step, already they were collecting snow, being buried, suffocated, frozen. Was she just as bad? Growing these flowers just for them to succumb to the snow before the next morning? Her gaze turns away, wings tucking against her back, the delicate filmy appendages being carefully folded down to ensure they wouldn't tear. Her eyes focus on the opening in the side of the mountain.
A brief moment of curiosity flares within her.
A cave system? Had she heard of this? Maybe? She wasn't sure. Ears perked forward as she looked around slowly before delicate, long limbs stepped free of the snow and carried her into the entrance of the tunnel system. Her ears remain perked, swiveling as if to catch anything that might let her know if she was about to come across a hybernating bear. She steps further in, out of the snow and it's only from the red glow of the gem around her neck that she can see as well as she does in these caves. She's not afraid of the dark, she'd learned to embrace it long ago, when she'd fallen for a demon. And so she journeyed further, to see what may await her with in the depths of these caves.
"Speech"
Thoughts
Open to Any
Notes: Wanted a Cael Post. Anyone welcome, good, evil, nice, not nice. Those who want to say hi, or those that go 'oh, you're in the abigo caves, can I steal you away and keep you?' xD
It'd been still and silent for a while. A landscape of ivory. Perfect. Untouched. Unblemished. Pure, and innocent. Vibrant and full of life. Hiding death and deceit. Winter was the cruel hand of fate, tricking you with the way the snow glimmers like diamonds to obscure the way the world dies, animals struggle to make it through with limited food. The proper time of when only the strong, and the prepared make it. Caelum knows she's 'strong and prepared' because her species aren't victims to their intentions, their baser urges. They think, and speak, and plan and do. While others are shocked by the turn of the season, and that first snow, horses, equine - they prepare for the approach of winter. Herbs were gathered in advance by medics. Artisans stocking up on their goods. Stores of food so none go without.
Yet, all Caelum sees is what's beneath.
Beneath that picturesque scape, the ground is barren. As the snow drifts down, so romantically, so peacefully; small animals shiver, quiver, trying to stay warm to not freeze to death. Small animals, so desperate for survival. Caelum finds little joy in winter because she's seen the less fortunate who struggle to make it through. She had walked upon the less fortunate equine once upon a time. Draping blankets over tiny backs, offering food to those already weak from an escaped life of slavery. Winter had been the hardest time them . . . Winter had always been hard. Winter had been when she'd lost it all too. She had come to find no beauty in this time. Where others saw a white blanket of unbroken snow, beautiful, vibrant, pure. Caelum remembers walking into the heart of the Summer Court. She remembers seeing those lumps buried under snow, the knowledge that the ivory coating was proof before she'd even seen them, that her parents had passed with most of their citizens. While a ruler of Summer sat on the throne, the land was in a constant state of Summer. The moment her father had perished, so had that connection to Summer.
Did her people panic, or mourn, when the first snow fell?
She wanders deeper through these non-court lands. She doesn't know what she'll find, but . . . she just needed time away. So she'd set off. Set off, and meandered. What had been morning, had turned into afternoon, and now was approaching evening. Soon, the night would fall, the moon would rise, and when it did, the world would seem aglow by the snow reflecting the light of the moon. As bright as day, in a way only snow could produce. She didn't care to see it, she wouldn't find it beautiful, because her memories cast shadows in the snow, and that pure light turned into a blood bath the longer she stared. Her gaze was conflicted behind her ivory mane, wondering if perhaps she should head back home, to Night Court, settle into her beloved shop, close the doors against the snow, curl up beneath a blanket, and wish for warmth, for summer.
If she would just embrace it, she could have it.
But her heart refused to acknowledge her birthright. Her people may call her Queen of Summer, but she wasn't ready to be the embodiment. Not yet. That was still supposed to be her father. Delicate hooves clicked against stone, and she pauses, as if only just now realizing she'd stopped flying at some point. The snow was high around her knees, cold, chilling. She glances back and can see the path of flowers that had grown up with each step, already they were collecting snow, being buried, suffocated, frozen. Was she just as bad? Growing these flowers just for them to succumb to the snow before the next morning? Her gaze turns away, wings tucking against her back, the delicate filmy appendages being carefully folded down to ensure they wouldn't tear. Her eyes focus on the opening in the side of the mountain.
A brief moment of curiosity flares within her.
A cave system? Had she heard of this? Maybe? She wasn't sure. Ears perked forward as she looked around slowly before delicate, long limbs stepped free of the snow and carried her into the entrance of the tunnel system. Her ears remain perked, swiveling as if to catch anything that might let her know if she was about to come across a hybernating bear. She steps further in, out of the snow and it's only from the red glow of the gem around her neck that she can see as well as she does in these caves. She's not afraid of the dark, she'd learned to embrace it long ago, when she'd fallen for a demon. And so she journeyed further, to see what may await her with in the depths of these caves.
"Speech"
Thoughts
Open to Any
Notes: Wanted a Cael Post. Anyone welcome, good, evil, nice, not nice. Those who want to say hi, or those that go 'oh, you're in the abigo caves, can I steal you away and keep you?' xD
My cheeks are turning red
I'm searching for the words inside my head
art by bingo
