Siren's Summit
this is fact not fiction, should have held them in your lungs.
the words I said are spinning, reeling; your wide-eyed dreams weigh a ton.
the words I said are spinning, reeling; your wide-eyed dreams weigh a ton.
You can sense energy?
So, he does not understand the world as she does. At least his voice sounds even-keeled instead of venomous and argumentative for argument's sake, thinking back to Aurelia and her pointed expressions. His green eyes seem to study the shaman now instead of the stones, as if searching by what miraculous power she held to feel such invisible forces. His own curious eyes are met with dark, placid lakes filled with stars and confidence.
"Yes," she says, a flat tone clipped into a short answer he likely did not seek. He wanted the how or the why, not an affirmation that he had heard correctly.
That is not immediately evident to the young girl, though. Once more, like several occasions already in this small exchange, Taivas stays quiet, watching her company with patience. Only when he does not deign to speak again does she understand he sought an explanation. You might think the shaman would be embarrassed, but no heat fills her cheeks nor does she laugh awkwardly.
Instead, she simply turns to her eyes to look out at the world for a moment, as if contemplating how to explain the concept. "There is the visible world," her voice is matter-of-fact as she looks at the trees and the sky above. "Then, there is the underlying pulse of the earth under our hooves. The stream of spirits which flows through unseen by our eyes." Her attention turns back to look at Rixen with another neutral expression, looking for confusion or comprehension on his own. "In my former home, we sought understanding of our world by connecting what could be seen with what could only be felt, until eventually you might form a connection with the unseen."
Without warning or fanciful speech, Taivas closes her eyes and slowly, quietly, pulls from the earth a strange looking billow of ethereal smoke - a spirit. The small thing dances and glimmers in the sunlight, forming a face for a brief moment before returning to a shapeless, wild plume. Gently, Taivas smiles at the spirit before it slowly seeps back into the earth at her hooves, disappearing without a trace.
"By listening to the spirits below, the slow pulse of the earth, and the imagery afforded by our surroundings, we form a more complete picture of the energy of a place. It is a feeling -" she points a wing toward the chest of the stallion. "- that lingers in your heart."
So, he does not understand the world as she does. At least his voice sounds even-keeled instead of venomous and argumentative for argument's sake, thinking back to Aurelia and her pointed expressions. His green eyes seem to study the shaman now instead of the stones, as if searching by what miraculous power she held to feel such invisible forces. His own curious eyes are met with dark, placid lakes filled with stars and confidence.
"Yes," she says, a flat tone clipped into a short answer he likely did not seek. He wanted the how or the why, not an affirmation that he had heard correctly.
That is not immediately evident to the young girl, though. Once more, like several occasions already in this small exchange, Taivas stays quiet, watching her company with patience. Only when he does not deign to speak again does she understand he sought an explanation. You might think the shaman would be embarrassed, but no heat fills her cheeks nor does she laugh awkwardly.
Instead, she simply turns to her eyes to look out at the world for a moment, as if contemplating how to explain the concept. "There is the visible world," her voice is matter-of-fact as she looks at the trees and the sky above. "Then, there is the underlying pulse of the earth under our hooves. The stream of spirits which flows through unseen by our eyes." Her attention turns back to look at Rixen with another neutral expression, looking for confusion or comprehension on his own. "In my former home, we sought understanding of our world by connecting what could be seen with what could only be felt, until eventually you might form a connection with the unseen."
Without warning or fanciful speech, Taivas closes her eyes and slowly, quietly, pulls from the earth a strange looking billow of ethereal smoke - a spirit. The small thing dances and glimmers in the sunlight, forming a face for a brief moment before returning to a shapeless, wild plume. Gently, Taivas smiles at the spirit before it slowly seeps back into the earth at her hooves, disappearing without a trace.
"By listening to the spirits below, the slow pulse of the earth, and the imagery afforded by our surroundings, we form a more complete picture of the energy of a place. It is a feeling -" she points a wing toward the chest of the stallion. "- that lingers in your heart."
taivas.
