The steller’s jay was a brilliant flash of blue amongst all the green, appearing and disappearing from the shadows in rapid succession. His song was bright, almost as bright as his feathers - echoing off the long, flat leaves surrounding them, making its way back to his bonded like a beacon guiding him through the forest.
It was a forest unlike any Ipomoea had seen before, a forest that was awash in so many shades of green and viridescent. Occasionally he passed a flower, with petals long and draping and bright enough to burn his eyes amidst their monotonous background. He stopped at each one, dipping his head low enough to smell -
- Only once did he regret it, when it was not the fragrant scent of roses rising up to greet him, but the fetid smell of something rotting and decaying, like a slab of meat left out all day in the sun. Its smell had betrayed its beauty - for it truly had been one of the most remarkable blooms he had ever seen, with layer after layer after layer of corollas radiating out from the center, overlapping one another in an intricate, seemingly purposeful design. It had had a waxy layer over each petal, so thick and translucent and shiny that it was as if the entire flower had been encased in glass, and the light reflecting off of that coating had only made its orange appear all the more fiery, like a setting sun. “A flower from another world indeed,” he had murmured, as he held his breath and edged away.
It was funny, how each flower was so unique. There was no rhyme nor reason to the plants here, no sameness uniting them together as a species. Their colors, although similarly vibrant, never matched; their scents varied from rose-like to putrid to everything in between, including scents he had never dreamed of before. They varied both in the shape of their petals, and their number: one had a scant two petals adorning its seeds, but others seemed to have nearly a hundred times that amount. Even the vines dangling from the canopy overhead seemed to change every so many steps, whether it was in color or texture or some other trivial aspect.
And yet, Ipomoea noticed. He noticed everything about this strange new world, seeing and taking it all in with a mixture of wonder and apprehension that left a foreign taste in the back of his throat. He wanted to be amazed - Ipomoea wanted to see something wonderful, something hopeful, something beautiful - and this island, surely, could do just that. He just had to force down the questions that continuously reared their ugly heads in the pit of his stomach, quiet the doubts that they spoke.
He walked slowly amongst the trees - for if he rushed, he may have missed something, and that simply would not do. This land was foreign to him - or maybe he was foreign to it - and if the flowers weren’t enough to clue him in, the rest of the island surely was. He would need to tread carefully here, for even when the island was inviting him in, calling him sweetly, gently forward, he knew better. Just like the flower with the beautiful arrangement yet foul smell, surely not everything was as it seemed here. It was too perfect, yet it reeked of magic and mischief, like Tempus had made himself a dream retirement home that had never been meant for mortals to walk.
Everything about it begged the mortals of Novus forward, promising them that it had somehow been made for them. The volcano exploding, the island recovering seemingly overnight, the bridge that connected one land to the other - it all attested to that.
“Don’t wander too far,” Ipomoea cautioned the steller’s jay aloud, yet his voice felt strangely muted by the foliage, as if the density of the forest were pressing in against him. As if the forest is swallowing us alive, he thinks grimly, sidestepping a vine that seemed to creep across the ground before his very eyes, reaching its prickly fingers towards him. His wings shuffled uneasily, wrapping themselves about his fetlocks like a worried embrace. A soft trill was the only response from his bonded, as his blue feathers disappeared once again into the shadows. It took only a minute for his song to fade away, for the whisper of his wings to silence, for the wind stirred to life by his feathers fall still once more.
And in his absence, the young regent felt strangely alone and vulnerable, as the trees leaned in around him.
yesterday i
was clever,
so i wanted
to change
the world
What if this was how worlds were created, she wondered. What if, once upon a time, the empty heavens opened forth with holes pouring liquid, living black, and the worlds were made, and this land known as Novus—so strange to her once but slowly becoming home— was born, and some of it was studded with stars which became legs which became Tempus, and from Tempus came his children and the rest of what is considered acceptable and known history unfurled like a scroll. Furae was like this once, she was sure, though she was not there for its beginnings, only its end. There was a pang in her heart for the waste of life she left in her wake, a song of sorrow for her home, as horrible as it was; a shoe which fits poorly and painfully is still a shoe if there is no other shoe to be had.
Kassandra worried her maw together as she picked her way through the green fringes of the jungle, walking around its circumfrance as opposed to diving through the diameter. It was a strange, unfamiliar place, and she was hesitant to throw herself headfirst into more trouble, having almost died crossing Mors desert and escaping from the destruction of the only home ever known to her. She wanted to… coast for a moment, and live, rather than survive. Still, there was a creeping voice in the back of her head which told her to push forward; it was the part of her which secretly loathed being locked in her tower of folly for all of her life, the part aware of the existence beyond a cursed doll on an ivory shelf.
Oculos retained no such concerns about their new environment. His lithe figure disappeared between the emerald greenery moments ago— minutes? Hours, perhaps?— and Kassandra saw hide nor hair of him; she felt him, though, alive and healthy and not in duress, had an image of him digging his long nose into the underbrush and stopping to stare at the flashes of colorful birds caught by his impressive eyesight.
Kassandra intended to turn back to the water and away from the almost suffocating closeness of the jungle when she heard (‘Kass! Come check this out!’) called in the exuberant voice of her Bonded. Nostrils flaring with a stubborn but nervous breath, Kass forced herself under some vines, ducking and lifting her head to lift them out of the way, and began the slow, but steady, journey towards the voice of her constant companion; she took gentle steps to avoid crushing any petals, pistils, or tendrils.
She approached what appeared to be a small clearing, where the ground was covered with beautiful, strange flowers, and the foilage above arched high overhead. Kassandra poked her head forward and immediately doubled back, retching. The most foul stench to grace her nose— worse, even, than the burning, smoldering, sulfuric breaths of dying Furae, fuming up her nostrils when she looked back— knocked her almost prone in the dirt. It was sweet, rancid rotting flesh. Her mind jumped to images of black meat sloughing away from yellowed bone.There was a sound of moving brush and through her watering eyes she saw a black, white-pointed shape writhing atop one of the large, orange flowers.
(‘Look— at—this—!’) Oculos— for it was him— panted as he finished each wriggle, twisting himself into comma shapes on the plants in the dirt. Golden pollen was clinging to his shaggy fur and when he stood and shook himself Kassandra realized the horrific smell came from the blooms— and now, thoroughly and indubitably, from him.
(‘Isn’t this place excellent?’) Oculos beamed, padding over to her with long sighthound legs. His tongue, clung to by bits of yellow, hung languidly from his mouth and he smiled up at her in his canine way. (‘This is the most amazing smell I’ve ever smelt! I couldn’t find something dead better to roll in.’)
“There were many dead things in the desert,” Kassandra said, her voice soft and sad, as she turned her nose away from him.
(‘Sure, dead and dry and dusty. This is… fresh and juicy!’) He yelped loudly, a noise of barely contained excitement.
“Please don’t say it like that,” Kassandra asked, a shudder rolling through her. She shook her star-studded pelt and internally begged the horrific smell— and her best friend— to wander away.
(‘Come have a sniff!’) Oculos chirped, trotting away past the small grove of rancid blooms and deeper into the jungle.
“I’d rather die,” Kassandra said, but her voice was swallowed by the pressing heat and overwhelming greenness.
Oculos disappeared once again and all at once Kassandra wished he was back, horrific smell be damned. “Ocky?” she nickered, a gentle sweetness come back to her voice, and she tread forward again, though she gave Oculos’ beloved flowers a wide berth.
She sidestepped a cluster of white flowers which looked peculiarly liked fanged teeth and realized she no longer remembered which way was out. A glance over her shoulder revealed the jungle already bending backwards to cover her trail. “O-Oculos?” she tried again, louder, shaky with apprehension. Her pelt began to tremble with suppressed nerves, and she willed herself onward, willed herself to not lock up in fear.
Something bright and blue beamed above her, shaking the higher boughs and filling the stifling jungle with a sudden noise above the constant drone of life. Kassandra yelped and started, bolting. Her legs shredded low-laying leaves and vines and clusters of hanging moss clung at her neck and throat, choking her with slight pressure before her momentum ripped through them.
Kassandra stumbled on the unknown path, squawking with unabashed surprise. She hit the turf with an undignified oof, rolled one complete circle, bumped down a small, dirt step formed where a tree root pushed the ground upward, and came to a stop on her left side, smudged with loamy earth, wrapped in thin, pea-like tendrils, carrying leaves and stray petals in her mane.
She huffed her thick forelock out of her eyes and blinked. Before her was a figure, earthy colored in his own right, but clad in… in clouds? “Oh. Hullo,” she murmured, dazed, and more than a bit confused.
kassandraoculos | 1,040 words | @IPOMOEA Kassandra falls in!
06-24-2019, 08:14 PM
Played by
Chaosy [PM] Posts: 91 — Threads: 10 Signos: 0
No matter what seemed to happen, the tri-colored stallion found himself on the island. It was intriguing and fascinating and amusing all rolled into one! Sliding through the brush of the forest, he felt the branches tugging at his mane and his green accents were glowing in response to the lush beauty all around him and he took a big breath of the air. Various flowers caught his eye as he traveled, but he bypassed them with a grin. The ebony, ivory, and acid toned stallion heard voiced ahead and decided to keep moving and see what was going on.
Striding through the forest, he listened as the voices became louder. He broke the final barrier and snorted as he saw 2 horses, one of which on the ground in a heap. "Well then... I guess that is one way to honor another... Though literally in the dirt seems a bit extreme." Coy grinned as he watched the pair. His bright blue eyes were twinkling as he watched them, flicking his tail softly behind him.
"I suppose that this is one way to explore the island. Getting up close and personal with the make up of the soil." Even as the sassy stallion spoke, he had moved forward to help the mare up from the dirt.
@Ipomoea - @Kassandra "Coy Sass" Notes: Hope you dont mind him popping in <3
It was somewhat unnerving, the feeling of being alone in a strange forest that seemed more alive than inanimate. The rustling of leaves filled the air all around him, dappled light streaming unevenly through the canopy to light the path before him. And yet it was muted somehow, dark in a way that made the world feel stuck in some strange period of twilight -
- But it had been noon when Ipomoea had first entered the forest. He doubted more than an hour could have passed since the trees first overtook him, yet time worked differently here.
It was odd, for lack of a better word. He had witnessed the last relic hunt, when the whole of Novus had gone out in a frenzy to find the mysterious item. More horses had been more pious then, he supposed, himself included; the talk had been everywhere, and he rarely met a person that had not heard of it and, rarer yet, one who did not care. Strange things had happened then, too; the most notable of which being the maze that had grown into existence over night, and the strange beasts that lurked within.
It reminded him a bit of the island - time speeding up, growing mile-high hedges over night or an island in a week. He had read of volcanic eruptions, how they destroyed the earth and covered it in a thick layer of ash and rock. It took years for the land to recover, decades for a new island to be habitable. And yet, and yet, he had seen the eruption with his own eyes, had felt the heat singing his cheeks when he walked into the ocean. Reason told him that this island was impossible, that it should not be here.
If there was anything the gods had taught him, however, it was that magic made all things possible. Even the terrible things.
Odet disappeared into the shadows, and it was like a shade being pulled over a lantern. Their bond felt muted in a way it never had before - Ipomoea could sense that his bonded was alive and well, but he could not sense where he was, or feel his mind or thoughts. He continued uneasily through the forest, for without the songbird’s extra set of eyes and ears, he felt strangely vulnerable.
When the forest seemed to erupt into life around him, he nearly fainted from the surprise.
The animals came first, strange birds of every color and stranger rodents swarming the path around him. He barely had time to stumble backwards, watching in awe as they appeared seemingly from thin air on one side of the path, only to disappear back into the darkness on the other. And only when it finally registered in his mind, they must be running from someone, from something, was he proven right near instantaneously.
The dark colored mare stumbled into the earth before him, her white mane and tail flying about her like a wisp of smoke. She fell and rolled, sliding down a small embankment where the tree roots seemed to raise suspiciously for the sole purpose of stopping her. And as her mane settled into a heap beside her, as petals and leaves and dust floated gently through the stale air, Ipomoea got his first look at her.
For a moment he stood there in shock, blinking dumbly at the girl with galaxies painted upon her hips.
Oh. Hullo.
It was like a spell suddenly breaking, and he rushed forward at once. “Are you okay?” worry was evident in his voice, his telekinesis pulling vines and clumps of mud from her coat. “That was quite the fall-“ He looked uneasily into the forest around them, as if expecting to see something else emerge in pursuit. But the branches only waved slyly back at him, and the dappled light seemed to wink and him and laugh in jest.
But he was not expecting a voice to come out of the hazy forest from behind him, one that was equal parts drawl and laughter. Ipomoea turned in time to see a brightly-marked stallion sauntering their way, blue eyes piercing through the darkness.
He huffed uneasily, wishing his bonded were back.
“And who are you?” he asked softly, standing up straighter as the stranger approached them.
yesterday i
was clever,
so i wanted
to change
the world
Kassandra was not one for feeling embarrassed. A bit dazed, yes, and constantly in a state of confusion, but she was not bashful or conscious, and was not made meek by simple things such as falling in the dirt. There were times when visions of great horrors danced before her eyes in glorious and terrible detail, and they, delivering to her the feeling of being a receiver of some awful, doom-bringing gift, is what filled her gut with shame. She saw herself, a bit subconsciously, as a doorway, and if she were not to exist, and never to open, then the awful things on the indeterminable Other Side— wherever in the universe it actually existed— could never cross the threshold and come to pass.
And so, when she looked up at Ipomoea and his rather stupefied face, with taut rings of fright pulling at the skin around his eyes, it was not a red-faced disgrace which crept to her countenance but a cautionary concern instead. She studied the gentle feathers on his hocks, the rosy hues swirling in his coat, and the lithe, long stretch of his limbs. In appearance, he seemed young, like she was, though Kassandra’s genetic heritage meant she had little growing ‘up’ remaining, and possibly a lot of growing ‘out’.
He came towards her, seemingly shaken out of some sympathetic stupor. Kass felt bits and pieces of the jungle’s flotsam and jetsam being pulled away from her and looked back at herself with genuine curiosity. She sniffed gently at a leaf as it lifted from her pelt.
That was quite the fall— there was an uneven shake in the stranger’s voice which brought her back to him; she saw his eyes peering deep into the forest— perhaps trying to pull it apart, as he had done with her impromptu natural trappings?— and she felt obliged to calm his nerves.
“Yes, I am well, thank you,” Kassandra said, preparing to heave herself to her feet. “My apologies for startling you; I hope I didn’t scare you too much.” She offered him a gentle smile. “The jungle seemed very heavy and close for a moment, and I’m afraid my nerves simply snapped.” She sighed in place of a shrug, as if to say you know how it goes.
Before she could lift her bulk off the ground there came a haughty voice and a snarky-sounding comment, the meaning of which sailed right over Kassandra’s head. She flicked her eyes towards the striking green and black form which broke from the trees in a way which reminded her of an iridescent-shelled insect from a spider’s web. “I don’t find it too extreme,” she responded, confused, genuine, and without a hint of sarcasm, “seeing as how the dirt is everywhere. Though this jungle is everywhere, now, too, it seems.” She paused, sucking at her cheeks in thought. “What if it swallows the world?” she added, quiet and an afterthought, a stray impulsive voiceline that could not be contained.
She did, however, readily accept the fantastical-colored stallion’s assistance with standing. “I like the soil,” she admitted, coming to her feet, “it’s the only thing that keeps us grounded. And it smells normal.” She thought of those nasty, fetid long-dead-stench flowers and, in turn, her Bonded, and, in another turn, him smothering himself in the smell, and her voice sounded a bit sardonic.
“My name is Kassandra,” she said when Ipomoea prompted the new stallion for an introduction, figuring, in her limited social knowledge, this was a good time to throw all the names in the hat. “I’m quite sorry for startling you, again, but— how’ve you come to have wings on your feet?” It was to be the first of many questions.
kassandra | 621 words | @IPOMOEA @Huehuecoyotl kass asks the important stuff
07-08-2019, 01:00 PM
Played by
Chaosy [PM] Posts: 91 — Threads: 10 Signos: 0
“And who are you?” Coy paused at the words of the stallion and snorted. "That could be asked of any of us. Who we are inside our hearts and who the world sees are often very different things." He remarked as he stepped toward the mare to help her.
“I don’t find it too extreme seeing as how the dirt is everywhere. Though this jungle is everywhere, now, too, it seems. What if it swallows the world?” Coy paused in his assistance at her words and gave her a look. What was this mare talking about? Did she not get his sense of humor? Shaking his head, he stepped closer. "I suppose that if it swallows the world, we will at least have more color to look at and could possibly find things that are brought to the surface by the roots of the trees." He shrugged, not wanting to sound afraid of the idea even though it was a bit disconcerting.
“I like the soil, it’s the only thing that keeps us grounded. And it smells normal.” Coy gave her another incredulous look and shook his head. Yep... this mare was different. "I suppose normal might be an overstatement... I mean... Many things smell normal. The salty air from the sea, the flowers that grace sunny hills... Dirt can definitely be something that is normal. Sometimes even the exotic are pleasant to smell and enjoy." He waxed eloquent for a moment before coughing and brushing some of the dirt from the mare from his shoulder. Coy nearly brushed some from her as well, but figured that wouldnt go over well.
“My name is Kassandra, I’m quite sorry for startling you, again, but— how’ve you come to have wings on your feet?” Ignoring the question that as so obviously directed at the other stallion, Coy watched her with cyan eyes. "I am Huehuecoyotl... or just Coyote for those that dont want to attempt to wrap their head around my full name." He turned his gaze to the stallion in invitation to introduce himself.
A soft and small smile pulled at his lips, as he leaned down to brush his muzzle against the dark mare’s shoulder. The action was friendly, instinctual; Ipomoea never did have any qualms about personal space or stranger’s etiquette.
”I’m glad you aren’t badly hurt,” he said simply, and sincerely. He was not a healer; and the island was so far from the Courts, he was not sure how he might have gotten her help had she needed it.
He shook his head with a soft snort. ”It is a rather odd place, isn’t it?” he asked, and quietly thanked the trees for sending her into his path, and not some other strange or fearsome creature. He gazed distantly into the darkness surrounding them again, for a brief moment imagining a shadowy cat to come launching itself from the depths of the forest, retribution for his naivety. But only the trees shuddered and sighed in every direction, their branches dipping low to the ground. He turned back to the girl, still tumbled in the dirt.
But the stallion’s comment threw him off guard, and his brows drew together in contemplation. It seemed more a riddle than a retort, who we are inside our hearts and who the world sees. Had he been more temperamental he might have been offended - but as it was, any sarcasm or sourness was lost on him as he pondered his words, and silently accepted them, listening to the rest of their exchange.
”At least there’s one thing normal about this place,” he said quietly; although truth be told, the island did not bother him. It unnerved him, but that was only to be expected, and it did not define the extent of his feelings towards the land. It was thrilling and exciting, full of adventure and sights waiting to be discovered. And, horses from all across Novus had come to explore it. Surely that alone attested to its wonder?
Talk of the relic was also an intrigue, but if Ipomoea happened to stumble across it (unlikely, considering how the last relic hunt so many years ago had gone), he would take in stride as another strange offering of the forest.
Kassandra, and Huehuecoyotl. Their names drifted across his mind, testing them, filing them away for later. A shy smile stretched hesitantly into place, as his cerise gaze examined the wings affixed to his fetlocks. They fluttered against his cannon bones, open and closed, stretching and folding, as if nervous beneath her scrutiny. ”I’ve always had them,” he tells her, ”I’m not sure why or how, just that I was born with them already in place.” He did not know if either of his parents had the same - he had never known his parents - but if they had, he certainly had not heard of nor met another horse who shared the unique placement. He shook his head, waving thoughts of his heritage from his mind.
”I am Po.” Again, a shortened version of his full name, his Delumine name; an informal habit that had become familiar to him in his months spent in Dencote. ”It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”
And then, because curiosity still burned in his mind, and the eagerness to get back to exploring was growing stronger, he asked -
”What brings you to the island?”
yesterday i
was clever,
so i wanted
to change
the world
Ipomoea's gentle concern and his genuine happiness at her lack of bodily injury warmed Kassandra. Finding a kind stranger on the island helped her not feel quite so alone. "I've lived through worse," she said quietly, eyes shifting bashfully towards the dirt, made girlishly embarrassed now by his kindness.
She averted her eyes and followed his gaze towards the forest, ears perking up as he spoke. Odd. "Odd is... one way to put it, yes," she agreed. He was not wrong-- a mystical forest popping up seemingly overnight on a new landmass which should have been barren and made of black, still-forming rock, was, indeed, odd. But... Kassandra swallowed. It was deeper than that. "It's something oppressive," she murmured, more to herself but still aloud, "like... like thunder."
In keeping with his incredibly complicated coat pattern and generally over-the-top social behaviors, the green-and-white stallion responded to Po's simple question with an unnecessarily convoluted answer. Kassandra blinked at him, silvery eyes glowing under slightly tilted brows which conveyed an intense feeling of being underwhelmed. "I don't think it's nearly so complicated," she said, voice flat. "I am just me, you are just you. The world sees the same person, just from different directions." Still, the deep philosophical undertones of their conversation, while not particularly exciting, posed a nice distraction from the constant fear and adrenaline coursing through her body since she first stepped foot on the mysterious island.
The thought of the whole world somehow being terraformed into a clone of their current surroundings scared her, on many levels. She was unused to traveling through such terrain; this was nothing new, of course, because, having lived locked in a tower for the majority of her young life, every terrain was new to her.
There were also more basic fears and discomforts that plagued her: she found she despised the heat and the wet, humid thickness of the air; in places, the jungle canopy was so thick it masked the sky and covered her beloved stars; and she was getting quite sick of the color green, she noted, casting a quiet, queasy glance in Coy's direction. "I don't know how much more color I can handle," Kass said, earnest and slightly shaky, plucking a stray leaf from her mane with gentle telekinesis.
She listened to Coy monologue for a moment and wondered if he was always this insufferably wordy, or if it was just the jungle which made him act so. She didn't mind it overmuch, of course, but his words were making her think, and her mind was already so tired. Also, she supposed, he wouldn't be able to understand quite where she was coming from without the particularly stinky context. Torn between showing Coy she was not just philosophizing and potentially scaring away her new friends, she reached out with her mind to Oculos, trying to locate him in the forest. His return ping was clearly distracted, potentially by some other rancid delicacy of the jungle, and he assured her he would be on his way momentarily.
Po's response about his winged hocks struck her so similarly to Septimus' explanation on his antlers and wings. Kassandra couldn't help but pout. She wanted ankle feathers and wings and horns! All she had were horrible visions of doomed futures and terrible luck.
Kass was so focused on being bitter about the lot handed out to her in life that she didn't even realize her question may have come across as rude. "They are wonderful," she said, earnest, star-struck, and a little sad.
Coyote was right. Currently, his name was far too complex for her tired brain. "It's a good name for you," she told the green-hued stallion, nodding slightly.
Po's question made her hesitate. She had not really thought about why she'd come to the island. Because it seemed the obvious thing to do, maybe? Because she had an unyielding curiosity and sense of adventure? Or was there something else? Something that danced at the back of her mind, which called for her to move with it, but drifted away when she reached out?
"I'm here, I think, because of... my dreams," she said finally, voice a soft breath, and she winced.
kassandra | 700 words | @IPOMOEA @Huehuecoyotl i've forgotten how to rp in the last two weeks, sorry
08-29-2019, 12:44 PM
Played by
Chaosy [PM] Posts: 91 — Threads: 10 Signos: 0
Coy watched the other two, noting that they seemed to be clicking better than he was with either of them. Dipping his head, he stepped back and waited for a free moment where he could interject. Kassandra's comment about not being able to handle color made him feel a bit defensive, particularly with the glance in his direction and he felt a surge of his snarky mask shove forward.
"If my colors are offensive to you, I will gladly excuse myself." He stated coldly, eyes turning to the other stallion as he dipped his head. "Ipomoea, it was a pleasure to meet you. Kassandra... I do hope that you are more careful in the future. Thank you for the delightful conversations and enjoy your time on the island." He remarked, turning and plowing through the brush with a flick of his tail.
"Sass"
@Kassandra - @Ipomoea Notes: Coy is just gonna head out <3 Please take no offense from the butthead, he is feeling argumentative atm lol
Table by Kaons and edited by Chaosy - Art by Chaosy
As the other stallion announces his leave, Ipomoea turns to him in surprise. “Oh,” for a moment, his brain refuses to connect, and words fail to come to him.
He shakes his head, a quick, jerking motion.
“The pleasure was all mine,” he says warmly, extending his muzzle. “Enjoy the island, Hue. Maybe I’ll see you around it?” He doubted the brightly-colored stallion would be hard to spot, either in the forest or on the beach. Ipomoea made a mental note to keep an eye out for him - perhaps their next meeting would turn out more pleasantly.
He watches as the stallion disappears into the underbrush, leaves and vines trembling in his wake. After a moment, he turns back to Kassandra. His eyes are bright, searching her’s.
“You said your dreams brought you here,” he says at last, and his voice is quiet. All around them the trees seem to be moving, leaning in. As if listening. Ipomoea casts a glance towards them.
“Would you tell me about them? Your dreams?”
He would understand if she didn’t. The island had its secrets, why wouldn’t the people, also?
But Ipomoea has always been a good secret-keeper. And there was no one else around to betray her trust.
He smiles at her, slow and soft as he dips his head. Flower petals tumble from his crown.
“Or we could just walk, no need to talk,” he says, and he’s already stepping forward to continue along the trail. And thus they go, two in one direction, and one in another.
yesterday i
was clever,
so i wanted
to change
the world
