Post by Messoria on Jan 4, 2016 4:34:39 GMT -5
It was as if she was trapped somewhere between waking and dreaming.
The last few days had been a blur of realizations and voices, some soothing, some not. Messoria had drifted through it as if in a haze, her body light but her mind frighteningly heavy, as if the weight of the world had suddenly and irrevocably fallen upon her delicate shoulders. She could remember the night that Goliath had come to her, his gargantuan size a comfort, the feel of his fur against hers like water for the thirsty. But despite the peace that he had brought her soul, his words had effectively shattered her very existence, leaving her stripped and barren and alone. He was leaving. Even now, Messoria could remember the way his pale blue eyes had glistened, the scent of him that had once lulled her to sleep but that now haunted her, waking her from nightmares with the delusion that he was still there beside her...when in reality, he was long gone. It always took her precious moments to realize this, and when she did, her heart shattered all over again.
She could have gone with him. Datura had certainly agreed readily, and a part of Messoria had been tempted to flee as well, to disappear into the ocean with the only brute who had ever stolen the delicate pieces of her heart. She would even deal with the quiet disdain of the previous Matriarch, she’d thought, if it meant sticking firmly beside Goliath where she rightfully belonged. But…she had not. In the moments before she’d spoken, the night air cold and frigid, puffing out before her muzzle in small clouds, images had flashed before her eyes. Visions of Hyperion and Croix, who’d departed for the agoge, promises to make her proud ringing in her auds. Of Fawn, who was so small, so delicate, and yet somehow so very fierce, much like her mother – and whom had been left behind in the wake of her gigantic sisters. Nimue. Morrigan. Though they were gone from Ina’mos, they were not gone from her mind, her heart. And as much as her very nerves had seemed to scream for her to follow in the footsteps of her beloved mate, she had not. She had stayed.
The look in his eyes as she'd whispered that she would not follow him haunted her still, wedging its way into her heart and shredding her to pieces when she least expected it. There were days where she woke restless and aching, amber eyes flashing with misery as she curled away from the light peeking into the caverns, remembering every tender moment she’d ever spent with Goliath, every promise of devotion and love. And then, gradually, she began to venture from the caverns, gaining her composure as Typhon effectively ruled Kairos in his father’s wake. But even then, it was as if the island was foreign to her. The shores, the swamp, the very trees that had once been so familiar now seemed strange and alien, barren of the things that she had once loved. And there were moments when it hit her all at once, the pain, stealing the breath from her lungs and leaving her vulnerable and weak. But it was the days that she found happiness that were the worst, for it was as if Messoria could not be joyful without suddenly remembering as she was laughing or smiling, and the mirth would be wiped from her features as if it had never belonged.
She was trapped within a waking vision, and the world felt as if it were not quite right. Everywhere she went, the feeling dogged her, as if things were real and yet not. And while her promotion to Matriarch of Kairos had left her with a purpose, a meaning, it had not fully burned the stinging from her bones. Even now, as the other femmes of Kairos began to sport bulging bellies and bursting pride, Messoria’s own womb was barren. When she should have been reclining in the caverns, watching as her stomach rounded with the promise of Goliath’s heirs once more, she was instead empty and desolate, her eyes dreamy in a way that was entirely different from those of the expectant mothers. But still, she would not fail at being Matriarch; when the time came, she would visit each and every new mother, ignoring the longing and the cutting pain within her heart, offering only careful consideration and joy.
Though there were times when she thought she still heard his voice in her ears, or saw a flashing of him through the trees, she’d long ago learned that it was only her deceitful mind. She’d once told herself that she would not give herself away, would not allow herself to be hurt, but she had lied. And now Messoria was not entirely sure who she was, though she knew that in time, she would figure it out.
But for now, Messoria found herself in a place that was not quite true and not quite false, her amber eyes flashing with concealed confusion as she sat upon the sands, her gaze tracing the place where her beloved had last disappeared into the depths of the ocean. Everything was surreal – and yet, in a way, all too real.
The last few days had been a blur of realizations and voices, some soothing, some not. Messoria had drifted through it as if in a haze, her body light but her mind frighteningly heavy, as if the weight of the world had suddenly and irrevocably fallen upon her delicate shoulders. She could remember the night that Goliath had come to her, his gargantuan size a comfort, the feel of his fur against hers like water for the thirsty. But despite the peace that he had brought her soul, his words had effectively shattered her very existence, leaving her stripped and barren and alone. He was leaving. Even now, Messoria could remember the way his pale blue eyes had glistened, the scent of him that had once lulled her to sleep but that now haunted her, waking her from nightmares with the delusion that he was still there beside her...when in reality, he was long gone. It always took her precious moments to realize this, and when she did, her heart shattered all over again.
She could have gone with him. Datura had certainly agreed readily, and a part of Messoria had been tempted to flee as well, to disappear into the ocean with the only brute who had ever stolen the delicate pieces of her heart. She would even deal with the quiet disdain of the previous Matriarch, she’d thought, if it meant sticking firmly beside Goliath where she rightfully belonged. But…she had not. In the moments before she’d spoken, the night air cold and frigid, puffing out before her muzzle in small clouds, images had flashed before her eyes. Visions of Hyperion and Croix, who’d departed for the agoge, promises to make her proud ringing in her auds. Of Fawn, who was so small, so delicate, and yet somehow so very fierce, much like her mother – and whom had been left behind in the wake of her gigantic sisters. Nimue. Morrigan. Though they were gone from Ina’mos, they were not gone from her mind, her heart. And as much as her very nerves had seemed to scream for her to follow in the footsteps of her beloved mate, she had not. She had stayed.
The look in his eyes as she'd whispered that she would not follow him haunted her still, wedging its way into her heart and shredding her to pieces when she least expected it. There were days where she woke restless and aching, amber eyes flashing with misery as she curled away from the light peeking into the caverns, remembering every tender moment she’d ever spent with Goliath, every promise of devotion and love. And then, gradually, she began to venture from the caverns, gaining her composure as Typhon effectively ruled Kairos in his father’s wake. But even then, it was as if the island was foreign to her. The shores, the swamp, the very trees that had once been so familiar now seemed strange and alien, barren of the things that she had once loved. And there were moments when it hit her all at once, the pain, stealing the breath from her lungs and leaving her vulnerable and weak. But it was the days that she found happiness that were the worst, for it was as if Messoria could not be joyful without suddenly remembering as she was laughing or smiling, and the mirth would be wiped from her features as if it had never belonged.
She was trapped within a waking vision, and the world felt as if it were not quite right. Everywhere she went, the feeling dogged her, as if things were real and yet not. And while her promotion to Matriarch of Kairos had left her with a purpose, a meaning, it had not fully burned the stinging from her bones. Even now, as the other femmes of Kairos began to sport bulging bellies and bursting pride, Messoria’s own womb was barren. When she should have been reclining in the caverns, watching as her stomach rounded with the promise of Goliath’s heirs once more, she was instead empty and desolate, her eyes dreamy in a way that was entirely different from those of the expectant mothers. But still, she would not fail at being Matriarch; when the time came, she would visit each and every new mother, ignoring the longing and the cutting pain within her heart, offering only careful consideration and joy.
Though there were times when she thought she still heard his voice in her ears, or saw a flashing of him through the trees, she’d long ago learned that it was only her deceitful mind. She’d once told herself that she would not give herself away, would not allow herself to be hurt, but she had lied. And now Messoria was not entirely sure who she was, though she knew that in time, she would figure it out.
But for now, Messoria found herself in a place that was not quite true and not quite false, her amber eyes flashing with concealed confusion as she sat upon the sands, her gaze tracing the place where her beloved had last disappeared into the depths of the ocean. Everything was surreal – and yet, in a way, all too real.
WORDS: 887
Notes: Was bursting with Messoria muse suddenly before bed...open to any Kairos member.
Notes: Was bursting with Messoria muse suddenly before bed...open to any Kairos member.