flora
A rustle—not loud enough to startle, but enough to be not nothing—slips through the trees near the edge of the grove. A breath later, a soft voice carries on the dusk air:
"You’re not alone, but don’t panic—" The voice comes from nowhere at first, then flickers into existence: a flash of golden bangles and a faint shimmer as Flora turns the ring on her finger, just long enough to offer a quick wave. Her outline is slight, perched atop one of the crumbling stone benches beside the well, one leg drawn up to rest beneath her and her curls catching the light like pale coral reef.
Then she’s gone again, the invisibility slipping back into place like a tide retreating over glass.
"Trying to keep a low profile," she adds lightly. There’s something gentler in her tone than usual. Less Queen of Chaos, more tired girl in hiding.
There’s a pause as she watches Beans lick the inside of the beer bottle like it’s nectar from the gods. "Didn’t know horses liked beer," she murmurs, amusement threading through her words.
"You’re not alone, but don’t panic—" The voice comes from nowhere at first, then flickers into existence: a flash of golden bangles and a faint shimmer as Flora turns the ring on her finger, just long enough to offer a quick wave. Her outline is slight, perched atop one of the crumbling stone benches beside the well, one leg drawn up to rest beneath her and her curls catching the light like pale coral reef.
Then she’s gone again, the invisibility slipping back into place like a tide retreating over glass.
"Trying to keep a low profile," she adds lightly. There’s something gentler in her tone than usual. Less Queen of Chaos, more tired girl in hiding.
There’s a pause as she watches Beans lick the inside of the beer bottle like it’s nectar from the gods. "Didn’t know horses liked beer," she murmurs, amusement threading through her words.
How can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22?
Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
