They sky would bleed on, and Vera would simply watch. Life was passing her by, and she could almost feel in her bones that this was a liminal space. Liminality is an eerie thing, really. Vera felt that she herself existed primarily in the liminal plane… was she losing pieces of herself? Was this how she would misplace everything, entirely? Did she need to fear the eerie energy that had made its home inside her head, at least for now? Probably not.
Vera would be safe, as long as she held herself together. She would be safe, and she would be true to herself-- that was what mattered, right? Vera thought so. Still, a place like the Common was strange. It seemed to exist only as a means of passing through, not staying. Never staying. Maybe that was why everything felt so strange here… probably.
Eyes fixed firmly on the horizon, she hadn’t seen the stallion until he spoke. Maybe that was the danger of getting lost in her own head. Danger. Vera had thought this place reasonably safe, but it appeared she was mistaken. Hey, his greeting had come, shattering the silence of the evening. Vera’s brow furrowed, pulse picking up. “Dangerous?” Voice soft, nearly musical as the question hangs in the air. “I didn’t know, I… sorry.” Why was she apologizing? She’s tired. Stressed. Heck, apologizing felt like the only reasonable thing, though the mare (still damp from the sea) couldn’t explain why.
|