All expectations make her heart feel numb
Neither of them sang, and that was all right. She could make the sound carry over the fields, ditties and strains of worlds still present, still heard. Light and mellifluous, the melody would have been cherished by her sisters, her brothers, cultivated in unison as they spread seeds through the dirt, as they rejoiced in good, grand things to come (but they never had). Moments of peace, of hope, of fluidity that hadn’t really been present in her figure, in her soul, for so long, stretched in the canvas of singsong.
She smiled as Azrael spread hay, as Aamu stood still and she handed him a few apples, placing some down on the ground, almost as if to lead the enchanted deer along a path. Towards sanctuaries and sanctums they all might desperately need, crave, in the upcoming weeks. Then she repeated the chorus, the bridge, intending to wrap it around their own heads, lend into the tune, blend their own into the surroundings.
Her eyes continued to glance across the wide-open expanse; expectant, craving the gilded glow of antlers – but nothing yet, naught but her echoes bounding off of faltered grass. No matter. They had time.
She smiled as Azrael spread hay, as Aamu stood still and she handed him a few apples, placing some down on the ground, almost as if to lead the enchanted deer along a path. Towards sanctuaries and sanctums they all might desperately need, crave, in the upcoming weeks. Then she repeated the chorus, the bridge, intending to wrap it around their own heads, lend into the tune, blend their own into the surroundings.
Her eyes continued to glance across the wide-open expanse; expectant, craving the gilded glow of antlers – but nothing yet, naught but her echoes bounding off of faltered grass. No matter. They had time.
MABEL
