Dark side, you can see through my dark side
Spitfire, you can handle me
Spitfire, you can handle me
"You're right - it's dry today." Persephone nods, as though this were a remarkable observation and not the defining characteristic of every desert, everywhere. "Which is part of what's so wonderful. When the rains come through this whole basin will flood." A sweeping gesture of freckled arms encapsulates the vast white plains. "Flowers will bloom. Birds will cry. Animals will emerge and fuck and feast. This place will be a riot of noise and color and life, so incredibly different from what it is now. And none of that would be possible, were it not so dry today." Her warm eyes glitter up at Sunjata; there's breathless exhilaration in her voice.
An absent nod as she falls into step beside him, her attention again enraptured by the endless expanse of sand. She walks barefoot, the better to feel quiet vibrations or the changing texture of earth beneath her feet - changes like the one she senses now, as smooth warm sand grows cold and jagged, a siren song sung by the grains.
Poppy pauses and drops to kneel, her long toes curling against the ground, her hand splayed in the sand. "Do you feel it?" she asks, eyes closed in thought, a quiet hum pushed through her lips. "There's something foreign in the earth. There-"
As suddenly as she stopped she's on her feet, darting toward the east. And it doesn't take a naturalist to see what she's spotted: a copse of flowers, pitch black and glittering, as dark and foreboding as blood on the sand.
An absent nod as she falls into step beside him, her attention again enraptured by the endless expanse of sand. She walks barefoot, the better to feel quiet vibrations or the changing texture of earth beneath her feet - changes like the one she senses now, as smooth warm sand grows cold and jagged, a siren song sung by the grains.
Poppy pauses and drops to kneel, her long toes curling against the ground, her hand splayed in the sand. "Do you feel it?" she asks, eyes closed in thought, a quiet hum pushed through her lips. "There's something foreign in the earth. There-"
As suddenly as she stopped she's on her feet, darting toward the east. And it doesn't take a naturalist to see what she's spotted: a copse of flowers, pitch black and glittering, as dark and foreboding as blood on the sand.
Persephone
Fault lines, you just dance on my fault lines
Landmine, you can handle me
Landmine, you can handle me
