07-30-2023, 03:08 AM
The rush of falling wasn’t particularly notable other than how long it continued. At the bottom, he came to his feet like a shadow pooling on the ground only to crane his neck back up to study the sickle of light leaking overhead. The canyon was narrow, lined with stripes of red and yellow that made him want to trail his fingers along the lumps and ridges. The ground was soft beneath their feet, coarse with pebbles rather than sand. As the girl whose real name he yet lacked alluded, it gave the sense of a dead river, and like a river, the canyon beckoned them traverse the path that unfurled so obviously ahead.
But it was tricky, and he grunted as he nearly slammed his forehead on a ridge of rock.
“That’s because it was falling, and I left my wings at home.” The former was sarcasm while the latter bit with the hint of amusement that played on the corners of his lips.
He was quite taller between the two of them, and where the girl walked with barely a thought for the shape of their path, Adrian was forced to duck or turn sideways to squeeze through. He could have imagined himself smaller, he supposed, but he was more likely to exude the will that the canyon engorge itself instead yet he had the feeling that he should do neither. This was a journey, and he was going to explore it as one would wander any dream.
Even if it was leading somewhere.
Then the girl plucked something from the shadows that gave him pause. His gaze was fixed upon the petals nestled in her hand.
He was frowning in contemplation over its meaning when she reached for his face. “Don’t. What are you doing?” He grabbed at her wrist too late and immediately plucked the flower from the crook of his ear. He felt violated and thought to scold, but the poppy was too mesmerizing, and as he stared at the confiscated bloom cupped in his palm, he saw a staircase to no where. When the vision flashed and faded, he returned the flower to her. Dropping it completely felt wrong, but neither did he care to protect its meaning any longer.
As he offered to return it to her, he asked a terse question. “Aletheia? Is that what you want me to call you?” It wasn’t a friendly question, but not particularly aggressive. He was annoyed that he didn’t know her the way she seemed to know him.
But it was tricky, and he grunted as he nearly slammed his forehead on a ridge of rock.
“That’s because it was falling, and I left my wings at home.” The former was sarcasm while the latter bit with the hint of amusement that played on the corners of his lips.
He was quite taller between the two of them, and where the girl walked with barely a thought for the shape of their path, Adrian was forced to duck or turn sideways to squeeze through. He could have imagined himself smaller, he supposed, but he was more likely to exude the will that the canyon engorge itself instead yet he had the feeling that he should do neither. This was a journey, and he was going to explore it as one would wander any dream.
Even if it was leading somewhere.
Then the girl plucked something from the shadows that gave him pause. His gaze was fixed upon the petals nestled in her hand.
He was frowning in contemplation over its meaning when she reached for his face. “Don’t. What are you doing?” He grabbed at her wrist too late and immediately plucked the flower from the crook of his ear. He felt violated and thought to scold, but the poppy was too mesmerizing, and as he stared at the confiscated bloom cupped in his palm, he saw a staircase to no where. When the vision flashed and faded, he returned the flower to her. Dropping it completely felt wrong, but neither did he care to protect its meaning any longer.
As he offered to return it to her, he asked a terse question. “Aletheia? Is that what you want me to call you?” It wasn’t a friendly question, but not particularly aggressive. He was annoyed that he didn’t know her the way she seemed to know him.