Vignette: Snow
#5 of Studies, Vignettes, & Scraps
This is a quick, 427-word vignette set in my lyrren universe, not too long before Hrvalye and Cecina head to Earth.
I've written thousands of words from Cecina's perspective, but these are the first I've uploaded, which is a substantial injustice to her.
"You know, Hervie, today is a good day," Cecina said with a smirk, her arms akimbo.
As predicted and as intended, Hrvalye cringed, "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Cecina's smirk intensified, "Nothing is wrong with me, dear heart," she gestured to the floor-to-ceiling window in front of them, "But look!" She turned to fully admire the view. Vicious winds were whipping snow all around, sometimes helter-skelter, sometimes in organized plumes that resembled starlings swarming in a cityscape. For brief moments, the wind would cease, with flakes hanging in confused, uncertain limbo.
Cecina had a fondness for storms; she saw beauty in extremes and their contraposition to the tenacity of the life that weathered them. It was a little different now, of course. There was no flora, no fauna. There was no rain, no lightning, and scarcely any new snow. The powder that was flying about outside was mostly a few years old, in all likelihood. There was only wind. Sometimes mild, sometimes furious, but always there. Today the wind was angry and mercurial and alive--the only sort that made Cecina smile.
"We..." Hrvalye squinted incredulously at the back of Cecina's head, "Are going to have to walk in that, you know."
Cecina turned back just enough to aim a carefully calibrated flick on Hrvalye's snout, eliciting a half-hearted 'ow' from him. "Shut up." She was still smirking. Hrvalye was a wet blanket, but she garnered enough satisfaction from causing him physical pain to make up for it.
She could feel Hrvalye's presence behind her still. She imagined that he was trying to parse through what she saw. That he could appreciate, on an intellectual level, the marvelous dancing chaos that evoked blissful serenity in her.
Hrvalye stepped up beside her after a while. "It is beautiful," he said quietly. But his tone evinced a certain wistfulness. "But when I think about it, I don't feel what you feel."
Cecina nodded and the residual traces of her smirk evaporated. "I know." She herself became pensive as they stood silent for a time, admiring and ruing the weather.
She felt a light, slow pat between her shoulders. "I'm going to head back. You stay a bit. Wash the taste of my dourness out of your mouth, yeah?"
"Yeah," Cecina's lips curled upward a bit, "I'll do that."
She didn't hear him leave--Hrvalye always walked quietly even though he seldom covered his hooves indoors. She imagined he was still there, slowly releasing his melancholy and allowing his thoughts to swirl intrepidly with hers in the snow.