acres of longing, mountains of tenderness
She wants him and she doesn't, because he completes her, shadow to stars, and she does not want to be made. She wants to simply be as she is, free to chase whatever light might beckon, searching for warmth in other sources, places that aren't men.
The stars do not need shadows, Amalia counters, snarling suddenly, body pressing low upon the ground. Small white flowers shiver and bloom across the length of her spine, brilliant silver reflections of the stars he will never have. They have their own darkness. They are cold and they will burn you, tearing you apart.
A sudden surge of feline energy, and the leopardess is flying through the midnight sky. At least, she thinks that she is flying; in truth she has only managed a small leap, clearing Sunjata and little more.
A flick of her tail and she turns back to face him, imperious, large head drawn high. Find your own light, shadow cat. You cannot steal mine. And with that she turns and streaks away, light in the darkness, sick and small, in search of something she cannot see.
{fin}
The stars do not need shadows, Amalia counters, snarling suddenly, body pressing low upon the ground. Small white flowers shiver and bloom across the length of her spine, brilliant silver reflections of the stars he will never have. They have their own darkness. They are cold and they will burn you, tearing you apart.
A sudden surge of feline energy, and the leopardess is flying through the midnight sky. At least, she thinks that she is flying; in truth she has only managed a small leap, clearing Sunjata and little more.
A flick of her tail and she turns back to face him, imperious, large head drawn high. Find your own light, shadow cat. You cannot steal mine. And with that she turns and streaks away, light in the darkness, sick and small, in search of something she cannot see.
{fin}
Amalia
