New Moon Rising
May. 21st, 2009 08:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lady_moonThe moons were crescents, high in the dark sky, and the lone occupent of the beach stares up. They were just bare slits, and she can feel the pull, the knowing that in but a few days darkness would consume many skies as the moon waned into nothingness.
In her white corset and almost-red skirt, Moon reflects. Teja and Charlie said she was in love, but ideas didn't fall in love. Not like the sentients. Not like Ciaran.
But something whispers in her head, rolling through whatever made her her, that what was done couldn't be changed and would not be denied much longer. Her choice was fast approaching, whatever the choice was, and with it, everything would change. For her. For the family. It would change.
It felt as if they had all been waiting for these moments, as if they'd been balanced on the cusp of understanding for too long. Understanding was almost theirs if only she would grasp what was being offered.
But what was being offered terrified her. The fire was too hot, too sudden, and Moon didn't know whether to fan or snuff it out entirely.
Her eyes turn to the moons and stars of a world created through will and magic to suit the inhabitants of the shores. Was it possible to change something so intrinsic, something so ingrained, as detachment? The heat in the core of her told her it was, but the black fear gripping her heart told her that the true, reaching repercussions could never be known.
The wolf had left, drowning in his pain and fear and grief.
He'd left, chosen to be alone than with any of them.
The practical card inside her told Moon it was necessary, but the woman -- was there a woman inside her? A real woman who could feel so slighted? -- inside whispered of longing and loneliness and desire.
It dared to give another word to what they'd done in the forest the other night, a word she'd heard but never understood.
It was confusing and conflicting, and Moon buries her face against her knees, sobbing softly as her mind whirls and her heart aches, because she didn't know what she was supposed to do, what choice she should make, and it tears at her. It rips an already bleeding thing into bloody ribbons, and she shakes her head.
The new moon was coming, but Moon herself continues resist the pull of the tide, of change, and the glimmer of stars falling.
In her white corset and almost-red skirt, Moon reflects. Teja and Charlie said she was in love, but ideas didn't fall in love. Not like the sentients. Not like Ciaran.
But something whispers in her head, rolling through whatever made her her, that what was done couldn't be changed and would not be denied much longer. Her choice was fast approaching, whatever the choice was, and with it, everything would change. For her. For the family. It would change.
It felt as if they had all been waiting for these moments, as if they'd been balanced on the cusp of understanding for too long. Understanding was almost theirs if only she would grasp what was being offered.
But what was being offered terrified her. The fire was too hot, too sudden, and Moon didn't know whether to fan or snuff it out entirely.
Her eyes turn to the moons and stars of a world created through will and magic to suit the inhabitants of the shores. Was it possible to change something so intrinsic, something so ingrained, as detachment? The heat in the core of her told her it was, but the black fear gripping her heart told her that the true, reaching repercussions could never be known.
The wolf had left, drowning in his pain and fear and grief.
He'd left, chosen to be alone than with any of them.
The practical card inside her told Moon it was necessary, but the woman -- was there a woman inside her? A real woman who could feel so slighted? -- inside whispered of longing and loneliness and desire.
It dared to give another word to what they'd done in the forest the other night, a word she'd heard but never understood.
It was confusing and conflicting, and Moon buries her face against her knees, sobbing softly as her mind whirls and her heart aches, because she didn't know what she was supposed to do, what choice she should make, and it tears at her. It rips an already bleeding thing into bloody ribbons, and she shakes her head.
The new moon was coming, but Moon herself continues resist the pull of the tide, of change, and the glimmer of stars falling.
