because she's loud;

[thelightest_feet]

Oh, why must all your music be so very sad? Don't your feet feel horribly heavy - dragging slowly, slowly, slowly over the ground? Even butterflies can't dance like that, dear mun. Not when you're pouring lead into their wings. Don't you know? Don't you know that they need the light and the dust and the breeze to fly?

Comments

[nomorefeathers]

You can dance to sad music. It's just a very different kind of dance.

[thelightest_feet]

But her body is just like rock.

[nomorefeathers]

Maybe she needs you to dance for her then. It's easy to get locked into stone.

[thelightest_feet]

Then she'll need to change the music. My feet don't want to, they're stubborn.

[nomorefeathers]

Follow the music in your head instead? Or maybe I could sing for you.

[thelightest_feet]

You sing deep. Like the doves, cooing.

[nomorefeathers]

It's where my training's been. My lower register. And... I've never had reason to learn different.

[thelightest_feet]

There are blackbirds and there are doves, yes?

[nomorefeathers]

Well, yes, I guess. Doves are prettier though.

[thelightest_feet]

Don't be silly. They're definitely not. Blackbirds sing high: up and up and up even further.

[nomorefeathers]

A difference of opinion I guess. They're not really common where I'm from.

[thelightest_feet]

You knew blackbirds before you were taken. You're the dove and they were your opposite.

[nomorefeathers]

Oh. Metaphoric blackbirds. [A smile] I doubt most would appreciate the comparison. Not bright enough a bird.

[thelightest_feet]

Oh, you can be a peacock too?

[nomorefeathers]

I always wanted to be.

[thelightest_feet]

[She's clapping her hands excitedly, feet hardly touching the ground.]

With a peahen and large mirrors of water!

[nomorefeathers]

More like excessively hot lighting and a grand staircase, but yes.

[thelightest_feet]

Please... Please leave the scarf behind.

[Her clapping stops abruptly. Her feet sink and her entire body with them.]

[nomorefeathers]

I... wouldn't take it?

[She's not sure what you're going on about, but she's heard stranger]

I'd oath on it if you want.

[thelightest_feet]

If you do, will it bind? Or burn?

[nomorefeathers]

An oath? They only bind to the terms set. And only burn if broken. If it's a one-sided oath, I doubt it would bind you at all.

[thelightest_feet]

I'll make my promise as well.

[nomorefeathers]

[She holds out her hand, palm up]

Then I swear on the Wyrd to leave the scarf behind. May all magic desert me if I speak false.

[thelightest_feet]

[There's a moment of hesitation, before she runs her fingertips over Ren's palm. It's not a touch, as such. She's incapable of those. It's close, though. As close as she can ever come.]

May I lose my wings and freeze to death, if I come to you at dawn and make you follow me to the forests.

[nomorefeathers]

[She cocks her head to the side and gives a very bittersweet sort of smile]

I will hold you to that.