The pale mare had found herself in a vast snow covered prairie. It stretched before her almost endlessly. Other than being speckled with the odd grouping of trees, the terrain remained a barren, snow covered wasteland. Kos had arrived from the East, finding herself in the middle of whatever this place was. It seemed hours had passed and she was still indecisive of which direction she would go. She tightens her wings to her side, reminding herself that if she could learn to fly this wouldn’t be as much of an issue. Shame clouds her mind as she breathes in the cold air, trying to rid herself of the negative thoughts that disrupt her focus.
To the South her eyes can only see so far, the land seems never ending in that direction until it hits the sea. Turning her dome to the North, a strip of tall mountain peaks seem to call out to her. Kos knows mountains well, it’s where her heart aches to be and where she is most comfortable. Yet she still hesitates to move in that direction. She had wandered so far from her own mountain range to see what the world had to offer, not to head back to the same old comforts.
Her wings shuffle at her side as she gives a sigh, Kos had still not decided to go South or North. But the mare had grown tired of staying here, so she decides to go neither way and continues moving further east into the expansive prairie. She shuffles through the snow, keeping an ear out at all times for another living being as the sound of the waves fades behind her.
take that look from off your face you ain't gunna burn my heart out
Sleep clings to her long, ebony eyelashes. It keeps her eyelids heavy and her eyes gaze becomes a heavier, darker thing as snowflakes contrast across her cheeks and fringe.
The winds are so frigid here, Jack Frost bites along her cheeks. He presses icy fingers into her skin and deeper, deeper still until he is within her bones. He paints Minya in frost and what irony it is since she is the girl of ice – the bitter one of the White Scarab. This is Minya’s season there is nothing more colder than she – nothing except winter itself.
And winter wraps her in cold winds, it holds its girl of ice tight. It paints her lips white with cold and nips along her flesh until she is numb, until she is just a shade from blue. Blue like the sky…
Her cloaks ripple about her. Their royal blue is dusted with snow and frost idly draws intricate patterns across the cloth. From beneath her hood, her pink hair is pulled free, tugged by the wind to reach for the sky, for the clouds that breath ice and snow and endless winter.
It is a long trek back from the desert to Denocte. The snow marks her path, it documents her small footprints in the snow. It would have been an arduous trip, were Minya not as nimble as an elf.
Ah it is easier out here, where there are no mirrors to reflect truth back at her. It is easier when there is nothing but the wind and the satisfying weariness of travel. The girl’s heart thumps with her effort through the snow, it breathes warmth into her veins and beneath her cloak she is not cold, but as warm as a serpent beneath a desert’s midday sun.
From the swirling of snow there is a shadow. It looms larger and larger and only as the snow passes, as sunshine gleams down brighter now the clouds has granted it sight of the earth, that Minya sees a girl.
The broken girl jangles – not with broken spirit or the pieces of her that long ago fell apart. No, Minya jangles with assorted diamonds, jewels and gems. Each part of her slender figure is adorned with some kind of jewel, yet all are hidden by her wintertime coat.
“Are you lost?” Her cold lips ask, as winter turns her words and breath to silver in the air. Silver eyes, colder than ice and more beautiful than the moon, watch the stranger as she gazes this way and that. “If you are headed for the city, I can show you the way.”
The sun above shines sparsely between layers of angry clouds as snowflakes fall from the heavens. Her steps pause and she angles her pale head towards the sky, letting the snowflakes fall delicately upon her face. She inhales the icy air, for a moment her stiff wings move away from her sides and stretch out as far as they can. For a moment… she imagines what it would be like to be flying through the snowfall that now adorns her. With a toss of her head she shakes the snow and thoughts away, tucking her wings snuggly back to her sides. There were other things that held more priority, like where the hell she was and where she was going.
The wind has picked up it’s tempo, the bursts of relief Kos is able to get between gusts begins to dwindle as the the icy snow seems to rub her raw. An ear flickers back instinctually as a noise not belonging to this freezing hell catches her attention. It was the rattle of the jewelry that adorned the bodice of the creature coming towards her that had made Kos stop and turn around. A lavish cloak furnishes the horse in the distance, the dark blue cloth reaches towards the sky as it gets billowed by the wind.
As her new acquaintance gains ground she is able to see the defining features of the mare. Just looking at her made Kos feel naked and plain - such a silly feeling for a horse to have. For once she is grateful to have her wings covering her body. When the clothed stranger does speak, her voice is icy and melodic. Kos hesitates, almost afraid to stain the air with her own voice. ”I-I’m afraid I am lost actually”. Her ears pin back slightly in embarrassment, her words are small and quiet despite the fact that she stands 3 hands taller than the mare before her. ”I would very much appreciate that, thank you.” She dips her head slightly in respect, as she lifts her eyes to meet the silver ones of the mare, ”I am Kos”
take that look from off your face you ain't gunna burn my heart out
The stranger stretches her wings like a gull ready for flight. So keen, so ready, the winds rush to meet her. Snow flurries gather beneath each wing and toy through her feathers. Up! Up! they seem to urge but the girl remains steadfast. She holds her wings delicate and close.
Snow clings upon Minya’s lashes, they press cold kisses upon her lips and nestle, as they melt, wet and cold, into the fire-girl’s hair. Oh that cold water slips to press against her neck and cheeks. Flurries, flurries that make her shiver and turn her cheeks red as crimson apples. But oh this girl is steel her skin is that of metal and she will not let a blush stain her cheeks or else be seen as weak or soft.
Her hood pulls tighter about the graceful angles of her delicate face and she sighs into the moaning winter wind. She turns moon bright eyes upon the stranger and takes a step to lead them on.
“The city, Denocte, is not far.” She says and it is as if Minya’s very words are frost that line her lips, her tongue. Do they settle across Kos’ skin? Turning the gold of her white with ice and perilous winter. “You must be cold.” And Minya is musing, for her lips are chill and her knees ache with the cold – how must it be to be a stranger with no protection from the wind?
If she closes her eyes, if she succumbs to the dark of her imagination, then before her it will paint the warm glow of the White Scarab and its merry hearth. “I can take you somewhere warm. They will feed you and give you a place for rest, if you would like.” But oh, then she pauses and regards this other girl carefully. Minya is adorned in gems, the winter winds prize at the tails of her cloak yearning to push them back, to run its icy fingers over the warm gems that hand close to Minya’s silver skin. “My name is Minya. It is not wise to travel alone when the weather is as cold as this.”
take that look from off your face you ain't gunna burn my heart out
She leads the girl to a tavern on the outskirts of the city. Its chimney plumes with warm smoke, its windows are merry with golden firelight and through the outer door, open in welcome, there is the sound of laughter.
The snow around is glittering white, painted with watercolour gold by the light pouring down from the windows.. Light pools in the girls’ footsteps as they walk up to the door. Minya steps into the porch and then pushes open the inner door. A wave of heat washes over her. It bites at her cheeks and sinks in through the layers she wears. She shivers at the sensation and turns to the barman. “Please make sure this girl is looked after. This should cover the cost.” Upon the bar she places a small bag of tinkling coins, well enough to cover the cost of the girl’s care.
Turning back to Kos Minya offers a small smile. “Rest well, the city awaits you in the morning.”
Then Minya turns, the door clicking shut behind her and the wind billows cold.
@Kos | "speaks" | notes: just closing this thread lovely. I hope you are okay <3
