AISHA
kiss my skin, she said to her star
we can be the sun
we can be the sun
Stepping back through the portal had been strange, finding herself no longer in the cold of the fangs but in the bed of the spire.
Even stranger was walking to the manor, opening the door and finding it how she had left it. The kitchen smelled of stew, the fire was burning, it was as it had always been. Not enough.
The strangest thing was sleeping in her bed, the room she'd spent a full year in, the room she'd watched feel smaller and smaller. Her blanket wrapped around her shoulders, reminding her always of her first day in Caido and the comfort she'd found in Oliver. She slept restlessly, dreaming of flying above the sea of ice on the fox's wings, flapping through the night and diving upon prey that hid in the barren crevices. There was so much about the place that she despised; the cold, the desolation, the endless white and jagged stone. But there was something she really liked as well; the atmosphere of the citadel, the excitement of living somewhere new.
Even icy blues are better than gray.
The next morning she awoke to the familiar sunlight streaming through her window, and she threw off her blanket to head downstairs. She had some things planned for while she was here, and one of them was to work on a Ludo doll for the event in Torchline. She had no obligation to go, but she was interested in meeting the god herself, and flexing those artistic skills she definitely didn't have (she was gonna try though).
And so she sat down at the long table in the dining room with some things she'd collected; fiery toned paints concocted from ochre and berries, some straw, a stick and some charcoal. She started by weaving the straw doll, the way her mother had taught her when she was very young. Probably the only craft of the like she'd ever been taught, for there was a similar doll making festival back in her city.
She wove the straw tightly around the stick, thick in some places and thin in others to create a small feminine form. A sharp leopard's fang worried at her lip as she focused, trying her best not to fuck up like with the last straw piece she'd done.
Even stranger was walking to the manor, opening the door and finding it how she had left it. The kitchen smelled of stew, the fire was burning, it was as it had always been. Not enough.
The strangest thing was sleeping in her bed, the room she'd spent a full year in, the room she'd watched feel smaller and smaller. Her blanket wrapped around her shoulders, reminding her always of her first day in Caido and the comfort she'd found in Oliver. She slept restlessly, dreaming of flying above the sea of ice on the fox's wings, flapping through the night and diving upon prey that hid in the barren crevices. There was so much about the place that she despised; the cold, the desolation, the endless white and jagged stone. But there was something she really liked as well; the atmosphere of the citadel, the excitement of living somewhere new.
Even icy blues are better than gray.
The next morning she awoke to the familiar sunlight streaming through her window, and she threw off her blanket to head downstairs. She had some things planned for while she was here, and one of them was to work on a Ludo doll for the event in Torchline. She had no obligation to go, but she was interested in meeting the god herself, and flexing those artistic skills she definitely didn't have (she was gonna try though).
And so she sat down at the long table in the dining room with some things she'd collected; fiery toned paints concocted from ochre and berries, some straw, a stick and some charcoal. She started by weaving the straw doll, the way her mother had taught her when she was very young. Probably the only craft of the like she'd ever been taught, for there was a similar doll making festival back in her city.
She wove the straw tightly around the stick, thick in some places and thin in others to create a small feminine form. A sharp leopard's fang worried at her lip as she focused, trying her best not to fuck up like with the last straw piece she'd done.
breathe your light into my eyes
while i breathe fire into your heart
while i breathe fire into your heart
