and on their altars you lay your heart of stone
Yes, Aamu indeed. The stars and stones glitter in his blue eyes, wash them both in their pale enchanting light as she lowers herself to the ground. Aamu finds he doesn't mind. There's no threat, no tension, just the gentle glow of the stones. Stretching done, he resumes his previous position, propping his head up on his folded arm and peering up at the sitting Queen.
"Enjoying the night," he says from his place in the grasses, watching as she scoops the stones into her hands. It makes her look—different. Younger? Softer? He's not sure. Just knows that their pale and careful light touching her face changes something in it. He's content just to watch, wonders if she'd be the same. Replays the song she sung in his head. The Theskyra family was old, known even to him. He'd heard it before. (Or had he? whispers the voice in the back of his mind. Maybe he's just fooling himself to not go mad. Maybe he went mad a long time ago.)
"Wearing scales of the dragon," he hums quietly for the luminous rocks, "the.. soaring, proud dragon, Theskyra women roar..."
"Enjoying the night," he says from his place in the grasses, watching as she scoops the stones into her hands. It makes her look—different. Younger? Softer? He's not sure. Just knows that their pale and careful light touching her face changes something in it. He's content just to watch, wonders if she'd be the same. Replays the song she sung in his head. The Theskyra family was old, known even to him. He'd heard it before. (Or had he? whispers the voice in the back of his mind. Maybe he's just fooling himself to not go mad. Maybe he went mad a long time ago.)
"Wearing scales of the dragon," he hums quietly for the luminous rocks, "the.. soaring, proud dragon, Theskyra women roar..."
