Desreal: it is not where you came from, but where we are;

The silence is quite elegant, almost beautiful as she moves through the trees, the branches reach to her, caress her. The shadows linger so close. Flaking a silhouetted form within the parted moon.

She smiles, as her fire breathes across her skin, almost radiant, glowing so tenderly. But there is nothing tender about the mare, nothing beautiful unless you could see through the scared tissue upon her face, or her ruined shoulder. It is not an old injury, frequently it bleeds, open to the world. But it scabs and rips as the trees touch it. The blood ripples down her right shoulder, her leg.

But still she moves effortlessly through the trees consumed by thoughts of the hounds, the blood and the death. She smiles because here no one is there to see her and judge her. She smiles because the smell of fresh death had excited her, embraced her very core. She smiles because she can, even though the hounds raped her lands and she had feared for its people.

She still couldn’t help but smile even though their blood laid recklessly upon the sands.

She did not see her, she was apart of the shadows the trees as the bark melts down her skin, she was hardly visible, and the smell of her now that she came back from the rotting core of her mind was a mixture of sea-salt and woods. The electric current raised upon the air, and her fire flares but only o a minute, igniting the bristled hairs upon her back, but then consumed once again by the darkness. “It may be so.“ She whispers, though she knows she can here her words as she breathes them so lightly. Silence has allowed it. She snorts softly, bravely for she doesn’t know what type of monster lurks within her, she can not see the scar that edges about her shoulder.

Invisible.

“Because.“ Her words are still airy and light, typical. “the shadows wander within me.“ Her smile grows twisted and ugly. She looks at her, barley able to make out her form but still she stands, speaking with the unknown. “If I wander, why is it that you hide?“ This time there is undeniable defiance in her voice, almost demanding but it wasn’t quite there. It was covered by something.

Her fire reared its ugly head inside her, teasing and testing, it could feel its evil, her evil, a similarity between the mares. She might not of been so carefree if she had only known what type of evil she had possessed.

The very thing Hypatia was trying to protect her people from.

Pity.

l e b a n o n
we dance among our shadows,
our enemies connected feet to feet.
fire II | scout | riddler of ni'srilan