Desreal: halo; "whole again"

Don't disturb the beast;
first the tempermental goat,
the snail while he's feeding on the rose.

As the stars were the skies, as all things belonged to the earth—tonight the strange mare belonged to this unending darkness. In his shadow she lingers, to his side she remains… her storm gray body rippled and shrouded in the depths of black. Yet it is her pale white half-mask that stands out, the mismatches eyes and the way white hair has tangled its way into her mane and tail; she was a monochromatic Chimaera; and he her equal if not opposite. As she is still, as she is strong; she can only open her eyes slightly as he touches her scar. Glancing back and listening as he speaks; deep inside (behind the madness and corruption of the shard) she feels the awkwardness of explaining it. Yet she doesn’t have to, instead the earth-mother sighs, feeling nothing more then the same apathy she felt before. She hears the shard screaming inside of her, the way it’s power influences her, she feels it digging and burning her flesh from the inside of her hip.

Alas; she knows this is what she chose. However she looks up, turning her swan neck and watching him, she feels her shard growing angry, and yet it plays with her; ‘what are you doing, mother, he would kill you for us… mother I love you, please…’ it plays with her maternity, the cursed thing brought on by the birth of Stelona, ‘don’t lose me, mother, we must destroy him before he destroys us.’ It talks of killing, and it pulses beneath her flesh; she feeds it with her own emotions, and memories, the shard’s power refuses at first but falls silent when she fondly thinks of him. My earth-mother is passionate, strange and wyrd. She turns, pressing her head into her misnomer’s chest, she feels the beating of his heart and the sound it makes. She feels his muscles, and she cannot do anything, except for close her eyes; “It speaks; it speaks of things I cannot do… I am strong… but I’ve never felt weaker.” She stammers, mumbling and piecing words together against his flesh.

She draws back and looks at him with honest eyes, even though she is infinite… she struggles. “Please,” she tries to regain herself, but even the shard can sense her weakness. Her earth wields with her to fight it; but even then she knows what she must say or want; “stay here with me, it seems to be silent now.” She cannot say what she wants.

PRIMORDIUM
earthquake; mother nature; mortalis; mimicry