✯ — WE'LL LOOK UP SKYWARD.. tags

Venta had been sick for a long, long time. Something in her gut whirred, told her not to step out into the public, so that's exactly what she did do. Now, she was feeling much better. There had no longer been an ache seeping into her bones, no headaches, no more sniffling nose, and honestly, for sure, no more irritable Venta.

The lion cub had been staring with huge sapphire eyes at the stars, as she hopped down, laying to watch them. It reminded her of something, but she didn't know what, so she would continue staring at the distant worlds.

//So I was on mobile for the past 3-4 weeks which made posting difficult but I am back!

Margaery had been in a strange mood since her most recent encounter with Lup. Equal parts relieved and worried, she had no idea how to proceed with the information that the newcomer had given her. Her daughter's had gained notoriety for being killers and had even earned the nickname 'the Lilies'. Did her lack of presence contribute to their decision to steal the lives of others? Or had there been something beneath the surface that perhaps she'd never understand?

Torn, the chocolate point carried with her a perpetually distressed look- her metaphorical brow furrowed and her lips turned down in a frown. She sought out anything and everything that could distract her from her both accusatory and curious thoughts and, upon seeing a lion cub, grew excited at the potential for a conversation that would drag her away from the personal hell she had created. Padding towards Venta, Margaery angled her ears forward and took a seat, knowing with full certainty that they had not met yet.

[color=black]"Hello little one, I don't think we've met- my name is Margaret."

★  WHEN MY HEART IS MADE FROM GOLD AND FORGIVENESS SEEMS TOO BOLD

Hazel’s days were generally strange on principle; varying between mood swings, nightmares, new surroundings, and constantly wondering where the hell Arion was and if he was currently endangering anyone’s life, she was almost always tired when the sun fell beneath the horizon.

Which...horribly contradicted what she was currently doing, even if she was doing it with a yawn. Hazel had spent the entire day picking up around her room. She only knew one pathway in and out of the Observatory, and therefore, it was the only route she had taken all day. After she had finished pushing things around and shoving things into corners in her room, Hazel had wandered outside for a breath of fresh air and to make sure Arion hadn’t smushed anyone’s skull. Only...upon her step outside, it was dark.

Hundreds of constellations painted the sky with flecks of ice so brilliantly white they shone. Frustratingly, if she tried to concentrate on one, it would dim considerably.

Ready to turn back inside and find a blanket to burrow under for the night ahead, Hazel caught sight of a few dark shapes moving a little ways away. And suddenly, sleeping in an unfamiliar place was more daunting than the concept of talking to someone she barely knew. Hazel was sure they wouldn’t mind if she joined them....right? Hopefully? She wondered if The Ascendants had a “don’t speak unless spoken to” policy. Mother did.

Meandering over, the young girl took a seat near the others, curling her tail tight around her paws and glancing once more at the sky before turning to the one unfamiliar face. She offered her a small grin of greeting, eyes flickering up to Margy and Suite for a moment. It was nice to know there were two remotely familiar figures here - she wouldn’t be totally out of her league.

“Hello Miss Margaret - ” and again with the formalities, “ - and Suiteheart.” Hazel spoke a bit shyly, hoping she had remembered their names correctly. Turning an owlish gaze to Venta, she took in the size of the cub, swallowed against her bubbling anxiety, and smiled again. “Hi. I’m Hazel. Are you stargazing?” She asked, ever the curious soul. Mother said it was rude to be nosy, and for that Hazel felt a pinprick of fear start up, but sat on it as quickly as possible.

★ — Hazel — "speech" — six months — the ascendants — tags — ★
c) miithers