Ophelia
Ophelia doesn't know if the horse is stressed more by the long shadows and eerie presence of echoes over stone, or if it's the Ascended man himself. Do they fear them somehow? Sense their biological wrongness? It's a disappointing thought, but nothing can dissuade them from their path. Not even the inquiry posed by the man standing still and willowy below them.
His blindness is more than apparent, which does not bother Ophelia in any way, though it does present an ironically-amusing hurdle. He cannot see the blood, the unnatural thinness of their wrists and gaunt cheeks, the tired and drab nature of the steed between her legs. He cannot see the physical evidence of the life they seek to escape from.
"The last of my family has ended his own life," their sonorous voice sings softly, prim and unaffected. "I am free of their shackles. Free of their oppressive, misguided devotion to the Old Gods who abandoned us." Their downy, breathy voice finds vehemence here, a fire that smolders beneath the gauzy veil of their being. Composure comes on the next breath, rabbiting heart receding back to its normal rhythm. Still as an untouched lake once more. "I have waited many years for this moment. I will not waste a moment more."
Their pale head tilts, strawberry-blonde tresses cascading over the porcelain skin of their bared shoulder. "You can ride with me, if you like. It is not your eyes I need, but your mind. We are to be family after all." A family far more strongly bonded than the one blood had afforded her.
His blindness is more than apparent, which does not bother Ophelia in any way, though it does present an ironically-amusing hurdle. He cannot see the blood, the unnatural thinness of their wrists and gaunt cheeks, the tired and drab nature of the steed between her legs. He cannot see the physical evidence of the life they seek to escape from.
"The last of my family has ended his own life," their sonorous voice sings softly, prim and unaffected. "I am free of their shackles. Free of their oppressive, misguided devotion to the Old Gods who abandoned us." Their downy, breathy voice finds vehemence here, a fire that smolders beneath the gauzy veil of their being. Composure comes on the next breath, rabbiting heart receding back to its normal rhythm. Still as an untouched lake once more. "I have waited many years for this moment. I will not waste a moment more."
Their pale head tilts, strawberry-blonde tresses cascading over the porcelain skin of their bared shoulder. "You can ride with me, if you like. It is not your eyes I need, but your mind. We are to be family after all." A family far more strongly bonded than the one blood had afforded her.
With your naive heart you praise God above
But how's it working for you honey? Do you feel loved?
But how's it working for you honey? Do you feel loved?
