Ultima
12-28-2017, 06:13 AM
I'm Aurelia.
Taivas nods in reply, taking a moment to look out across the glimmering surface of the crystals and beyond, deep into the ocean. After a few long seconds, the mare's face snaps back toward her company, as if just struck by an idea. "I am Taivas," she says, a soft voice but void of any personality or emotion.
If Aurelia expected her to recognize her name due to Helovian history, she would be disappointed. While her mother had been born in Isilme and lived long in Helovia, Taivas had no knowledge such as names to match with her mother's old acquaintances. The Illuminant shared stories without names, mostly descriptions, focusing mainly upon her home in the Dragon's Throat and losing and learning within the confines of her home. Even then, the shaman's memory of her mother's tales were fractured by time and self-embellishment - altering the very fabric upon which the stories were roughly painted.
Thus, there is no recognition in the young mare's face, no curiosity, no hope of seeking more personal details from Aurelia. Only a soft, rather unreadable gaze and emotionless face to match.
Of course, the healer is not simply looking at her company with a vacant stare devoid of thought, but carefully picking up on the physical differences of the mare in front of her. Aurelia has a ball of hope, though Taivas clearly remembers she had not been present when Kisamoa called a meeting; perhaps, someone else who attended shared the light with her. She notes the strangely distended barrel and posture of her hips, determining silently and without much judgment that this lady had recently given birth. The painted girl decides not to inquire about the foal that does not appear to be near, for usually the vacancy of a recently born foal means one thing: stillborn.
Taivas knows little of social niceties, but she knows enough not to bring up such a morbid topic for discussion.
Do you know anything about the Rift? the golden lady asks, her voice sounding slightly exasperated in Taivas's ears, causing one to cock back slightly. "Not much," she admits, without any hint of embarrassment for being just another clueless idiot this mare had inquired details from. "Most areas here, the earth feels ill, and the energy is that of a ravenous wolf. I think it is trying to heal some sort of wound it suffered by pulling new life into itself. Even the god of this land seems to have suffered grave and permanent injuries."
She thinks back to Kisamoa, with his disfigured body and oozing, acidic blood landing upon the grass in Solanis. His expression was sorrowful, and thinking back to his hollow explanation that she could not help dampens her heart.
"I have not met many who hail from this land originally."
Taivas nods in reply, taking a moment to look out across the glimmering surface of the crystals and beyond, deep into the ocean. After a few long seconds, the mare's face snaps back toward her company, as if just struck by an idea. "I am Taivas," she says, a soft voice but void of any personality or emotion.
If Aurelia expected her to recognize her name due to Helovian history, she would be disappointed. While her mother had been born in Isilme and lived long in Helovia, Taivas had no knowledge such as names to match with her mother's old acquaintances. The Illuminant shared stories without names, mostly descriptions, focusing mainly upon her home in the Dragon's Throat and losing and learning within the confines of her home. Even then, the shaman's memory of her mother's tales were fractured by time and self-embellishment - altering the very fabric upon which the stories were roughly painted.
Thus, there is no recognition in the young mare's face, no curiosity, no hope of seeking more personal details from Aurelia. Only a soft, rather unreadable gaze and emotionless face to match.
Of course, the healer is not simply looking at her company with a vacant stare devoid of thought, but carefully picking up on the physical differences of the mare in front of her. Aurelia has a ball of hope, though Taivas clearly remembers she had not been present when Kisamoa called a meeting; perhaps, someone else who attended shared the light with her. She notes the strangely distended barrel and posture of her hips, determining silently and without much judgment that this lady had recently given birth. The painted girl decides not to inquire about the foal that does not appear to be near, for usually the vacancy of a recently born foal means one thing: stillborn.
Taivas knows little of social niceties, but she knows enough not to bring up such a morbid topic for discussion.
Do you know anything about the Rift? the golden lady asks, her voice sounding slightly exasperated in Taivas's ears, causing one to cock back slightly. "Not much," she admits, without any hint of embarrassment for being just another clueless idiot this mare had inquired details from. "Most areas here, the earth feels ill, and the energy is that of a ravenous wolf. I think it is trying to heal some sort of wound it suffered by pulling new life into itself. Even the god of this land seems to have suffered grave and permanent injuries."
She thinks back to Kisamoa, with his disfigured body and oozing, acidic blood landing upon the grass in Solanis. His expression was sorrowful, and thinking back to his hollow explanation that she could not help dampens her heart.
"I have not met many who hail from this land originally."
So seize the day 'Cause you have come so far
Watched a million frowns turn into smiles
Lost all track of time Felt the energy of a million stars
You'll feel love again after the rain
Watched a million frowns turn into smiles
Lost all track of time Felt the energy of a million stars
You'll feel love again after the rain
Taivas
