Safrin
Safrin laughs suddenly, and brightly. "Stars? Stoic?" The goddess shakes her head, and holds out her hand suddenly to him. "Come here, Ronin. There is something I would show you."
Her fingers stretch for his, even as her shoulders shrug again beneath the dark material of her gown. "You both are and aren't...I suppose you're a demi-man just as much as you're a demi god."
Of how quickly they forget her, coming to her in a time of need such as LongNight, Safrin says nothing. Instead, as Ronin's fingers find hers, they are transported worlds and lightyears away. The darkness of space is resplendent and complete. Around them is nothing but each other, and a thousand softly twinkling stars burning far, far away. 'Stars appear like twinkling, sweet things from where you view them." She says softly, her hand warm and small in his. "But to be closer to them?" They drift in space—or does the star come to them?—until it looms close enough that Ronin might understand. Not a twinkling and merry thing at all, but a burning geyser of fire and power. The roar of it is nearly overwhelming as bursts of flame snarl from its surface like cries of outrage bellowed into the blackness of space.
My stars are not stoic, Ronin. You are just too far away to see them for what they are. She whispers in his mind that she might not have to compete against the roar of the star.
Her fingers stretch for his, even as her shoulders shrug again beneath the dark material of her gown. "You both are and aren't...I suppose you're a demi-man just as much as you're a demi god."
Of how quickly they forget her, coming to her in a time of need such as LongNight, Safrin says nothing. Instead, as Ronin's fingers find hers, they are transported worlds and lightyears away. The darkness of space is resplendent and complete. Around them is nothing but each other, and a thousand softly twinkling stars burning far, far away. 'Stars appear like twinkling, sweet things from where you view them." She says softly, her hand warm and small in his. "But to be closer to them?" They drift in space—or does the star come to them?—until it looms close enough that Ronin might understand. Not a twinkling and merry thing at all, but a burning geyser of fire and power. The roar of it is nearly overwhelming as bursts of flame snarl from its surface like cries of outrage bellowed into the blackness of space.
My stars are not stoic, Ronin. You are just too far away to see them for what they are. She whispers in his mind that she might not have to compete against the roar of the star.
