09-05-2019, 11:53 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12px; color;"]It was impossible for her golden eyes to not fall upon those angelic wings, a tinge of that unfamiliar feeling igniting in her chest. Her own wings seemed like leathery abominations contrasted to the soft, silver-pointed ones on the girl her opposite. Why was she graced with things of beauty and Etherealgate, things of fear? Her shoulders sagged slightly at that revelation, wings withdrawing until they pressed tightly against her sides. There was no need to show off when someone who did it far better than her was currently staring her down.
It took her longer than she would care to admit to realize that she had been addressed and immediately, her cheeks inflamed with blush. Had it not been for her dark fur, Eth was certain her embarrassment would have made itself known, and she struggled quickly to regroup lest some other tell of hers revealed her sudden shame. "Hi," The serval finally breathed out, the casual word foreign upon her tongue but welcomed nonetheless. She needed to try to be more mortal, not this caricature that she feigned in the face of her clanmates. She supposed unlearning what her isolation taught her would be difficult though.
"It's different," She admitted slowly, banishing her thoughts of mortality and fitting in. They were thoughts to be contemplated another time, not in the face of someone who she could not read. "I grew up practically alone," Eth found herself admitting, voice faraway as memories of her time as a child surged up to meet her. "My family is religious," She lied, easily, "They thought it would be wise for me to follow the path as a handmaiden to our God." Singular. As if she did not serve every god and no god at once. As if she was not death's mortal face. As if she was a mere worshipper and not a devout follower. She swallowed. "I guess I'm just overwhelmed," She continued, forcing a laugh. It scratched at her throat, making her feel suddenly self conscious. In the face of what appeared to be an angel-come-to-earth (though she doubted that were the case, angels did not fall from grace often), she felt small. Insignificant. A dark blight on an otherwise unstained piece of paper. She didn't like it. Nor did she like the ease in which her words were delivered to the other.
"But enough about me!" She trilled in what was clearly an attempt to breeze over the subject, "What about you, Dovedeparture. How do you like it here?"
It took her longer than she would care to admit to realize that she had been addressed and immediately, her cheeks inflamed with blush. Had it not been for her dark fur, Eth was certain her embarrassment would have made itself known, and she struggled quickly to regroup lest some other tell of hers revealed her sudden shame. "Hi," The serval finally breathed out, the casual word foreign upon her tongue but welcomed nonetheless. She needed to try to be more mortal, not this caricature that she feigned in the face of her clanmates. She supposed unlearning what her isolation taught her would be difficult though.
"It's different," She admitted slowly, banishing her thoughts of mortality and fitting in. They were thoughts to be contemplated another time, not in the face of someone who she could not read. "I grew up practically alone," Eth found herself admitting, voice faraway as memories of her time as a child surged up to meet her. "My family is religious," She lied, easily, "They thought it would be wise for me to follow the path as a handmaiden to our God." Singular. As if she did not serve every god and no god at once. As if she was not death's mortal face. As if she was a mere worshipper and not a devout follower. She swallowed. "I guess I'm just overwhelmed," She continued, forcing a laugh. It scratched at her throat, making her feel suddenly self conscious. In the face of what appeared to be an angel-come-to-earth (though she doubted that were the case, angels did not fall from grace often), she felt small. Insignificant. A dark blight on an otherwise unstained piece of paper. She didn't like it. Nor did she like the ease in which her words were delivered to the other.
"But enough about me!" She trilled in what was clearly an attempt to breeze over the subject, "What about you, Dovedeparture. How do you like it here?"