(no subject)
Dressed in furs and thick suede from the clothes box, Lyra Silvertongue stood in front of the island memorial with her daemon hugged tight in her arms. With her boots buried ankle-deep in snow and one of the red saucers from the games closet propped up against her leg, she stood there staring and cuddling Pan close, comforted by the feel of his fuzzy little head nuzzling her wind-stained cheek.
Lucy Pevensie
Inara Serra
These were names Lyra knew, names of people currently on the island. And yet, there they were. Carved into the flat face of rock at the base of the mountain. She'd seen the memorial many times before but it still left her a bit confused, and therefore entirely put off, whenever she saw those names.
Because it meant that the owners of those names had vanished at some time or another. Gone home, perhaps, or found their way into another world, only to have another version of themselves return to make a home here all over again. It made no sense, and what was worse, Pan couldn't even give counsel on the matter.
On most days they dealt just fine with the fact that he could no longer talk. Of course, it wasn't fine and never would be fine, but there was no use sitting around mourning the lost connection when other deeper ones remained. But occasionally Lyra felt a sting in her heart whenever she cuddled his pine marten form to her breast, and in these moments only one thought could possibly console her.
This is the price you pay to live in a world where you and Will can be together.
And that alone seemed to make things all right.
[OOC: New tags welcome through the weekend, Lord Asriel especially wanted. Also skiers, sledders, snowboarders, come along. She's planning to head up the mountain.]
Lucy Pevensie
Inara Serra
These were names Lyra knew, names of people currently on the island. And yet, there they were. Carved into the flat face of rock at the base of the mountain. She'd seen the memorial many times before but it still left her a bit confused, and therefore entirely put off, whenever she saw those names.
Because it meant that the owners of those names had vanished at some time or another. Gone home, perhaps, or found their way into another world, only to have another version of themselves return to make a home here all over again. It made no sense, and what was worse, Pan couldn't even give counsel on the matter.
On most days they dealt just fine with the fact that he could no longer talk. Of course, it wasn't fine and never would be fine, but there was no use sitting around mourning the lost connection when other deeper ones remained. But occasionally Lyra felt a sting in her heart whenever she cuddled his pine marten form to her breast, and in these moments only one thought could possibly console her.
This is the price you pay to live in a world where you and Will can be together.
And that alone seemed to make things all right.
[OOC: New tags welcome through the weekend, Lord Asriel especially wanted. Also skiers, sledders, snowboarders, come along. She's planning to head up the mountain.]