Uwaritace
Place a name upon the night, one to set your heart alight
And to make the darkness bright
Paint the sky with stars.
And to make the darkness bright
Paint the sky with stars.
Silence spreads between them for a gentle moment, with little but the soft breathing of Waker and the arid wind whistling ever so slightly in her ears. The shaman is calm, oddly so, for just speaking of the loss of her home, her family, her former life. Still, Waker seems not to judge her for it, but instead takes on an pensive expression as a half circle loosens bits of dirt into the dry and chokingly warm air.
Taivas remains thankful for the charm keeping cool air undulating down her skin.
The stallion again takes on an expression that makes him look young, much like when he was a wet, limp figure in the Portal. The content of his words reveals why, for his tone is much more revealing of the hurt, the sadness, and the difficulty of his history. The soft, quiet words threaten to break under the stress of his recollections, but the moonlit girl watches somewhat impassively.
Never before had she found herself in this situation, where she had something so painful in common with a stranger. Desperately, the shaman wanted to comfort Waker, to offer him the same serene solace that appeared on her face as she spoke of her homeland. The tranquility of her voice did not match her true attitude, though, and thus it became impossible to share with the heartbroken boy before her. Taivas opens her mouth as if to speak, only to clamp it shut a moment after.
Timidly, the girl stretches out a wing. Slowly, like the uncertain steps of a newborn foal, the soft feathers bend and curve, attempting to gently rest upon the shoulders of her new friend. What would normally be a warm embrace is instead a cool embrace, due to the charm dangling in her mane, but perhaps more welcome in the summer heat.
"I am sorry," she says sincerely, her voice warm and gentle, starkly opposed to her dull and even cold expression. Within the deep, dark pools of her eyes, a hint of empathy and compassion glimmers against a dark canvas.
Taivas remains thankful for the charm keeping cool air undulating down her skin.
The stallion again takes on an expression that makes him look young, much like when he was a wet, limp figure in the Portal. The content of his words reveals why, for his tone is much more revealing of the hurt, the sadness, and the difficulty of his history. The soft, quiet words threaten to break under the stress of his recollections, but the moonlit girl watches somewhat impassively.
Never before had she found herself in this situation, where she had something so painful in common with a stranger. Desperately, the shaman wanted to comfort Waker, to offer him the same serene solace that appeared on her face as she spoke of her homeland. The tranquility of her voice did not match her true attitude, though, and thus it became impossible to share with the heartbroken boy before her. Taivas opens her mouth as if to speak, only to clamp it shut a moment after.
Timidly, the girl stretches out a wing. Slowly, like the uncertain steps of a newborn foal, the soft feathers bend and curve, attempting to gently rest upon the shoulders of her new friend. What would normally be a warm embrace is instead a cool embrace, due to the charm dangling in her mane, but perhaps more welcome in the summer heat.
"I am sorry," she says sincerely, her voice warm and gentle, starkly opposed to her dull and even cold expression. Within the deep, dark pools of her eyes, a hint of empathy and compassion glimmers against a dark canvas.
Taivas
