Rainforest Cliffs
S A O I R S E
Saoirse watches her face: for the small movements of her brows, or the halt of her body. There is a visible burden she appears to be holding inside her. Making the air thicker than it should be, or supporting an invisible weight; or perhaps fighting through the forest is challenging her wits. He tilts his head just so, wondering what the Rift could have possibly done to her. There are too many possibilities to consider: mothers and fathers, friends, family, a life.
Considering the damages he won’t pry. When she retorts with her next line however, a snort exits his nares with a half smile that plays on his lips. There’s the Valdís he recognizes. Her caustic words, the sting in her tone – for a moment he even feels hopeful. Encouraged by this return of character; maybe Kaos hasn’t exactly won after all.
He’s kidding himself, and it’d be a fool’s dream to think so.
The colt isn’t sure why she might find his change in thought any interesting. Or why she doesn’t parade with a, ‘Hah! I told you so bőgőmasina!’ Curiosity peaks her, and without anyone to confide in – he takes the bait. Perhaps he doesn’t care enough to worry about her rebuttal. Or what she might think; as long as someone is willing to listen, he didn’t mind at all. It might even gather his thoughts, instead of allowing the whirlwind of emotions to dictate his reasoning and cause.
“He’s gone now isn’t he? The Sun God is not as powerful as I thought him to be…” He let them die, Saoirse thought. The gods let their world dissolve into fine, unsubstantial powder. Lost forever, their vigil waning by those who could only remember what their once home was like. Eventually the last of the true Helovians would die and rot away. Who then, would know of their home? Their lands would be forgotten, moot. “If a god can’t protect his people, what’s the point?” He shifted uneasily, moving to another tree and shuffling his wings. His words hissed, angry, betrayed by his naïve thoughts. He wondered if he should even continue, or if his answer was good enough.
“My… my mother had another foal, while she’d abandoned me. She has another family now.” His words felt weak, as if they’d dried his lips and carved him out. His face crumpled and twisted with his distaste, before laughing harshly. “Is that selfish of me?” Why was he asking her? Of all people? Why was he seeking any kind of validation to the hatred, and the disgust he had for that woman? There were foals that had lost their mothers, who had cried and wept in vain – never to see their loved ones. His mother had lived, and he was convinced he was in more pain by her existence. By her presence in this world, and the secrets of his conception revealed. From the start Saoirse had been ugly and unwanted by her. And he couldn’t understand why he hadn’t had a choice in it. Why she could blame her mistreatment for that sole reason. He’d been a good boy, hadn’t he?
“Damn her.”
@Valdís
ooc: so sorry for the wait! work is kicking my butt
