☁️ something gentle blooms from within xenophilius as pandora’s words reach his ears. he watches her speak with hope-filled eyes, the corners of his lips easing out into a tender-lipped smile as he responds —— “ oh, no, i don’t believe that water would drown the wrackspurts. ” he first says, hoping to reassure pandora. “ my reasoning being that their relationship to all manner of elements differs so very greatly from ours. as opposed to food as we know it, wrackspurts devour every inkling of happiness for nourishment ; trying to fill their sorrowful souls. rather than air, and carbon dioxide, wrackspurts breathe in your most precious dreams, and breathe out sorrow and woebegone thoughts. they sleep in tiny little houses made out of hair and earwax, and they recoil at the first sound of a melodious tune ; burrowing deeper. taking shelter. so while being submerged in water may prove lethal for humans, i feel as though it may not pose the same danger to wrackspurts. ” as xenophilius explains each and every little thought and inkling which crosses his mind, he finds himself startled once again ; for how open he felt whenever he found himself in pandora’s company. pandora seemed to transport xenophilius’ spirit to a warmer, more sunblessed place ; even as his physical presence resided confined within these looming and ancient castle walls.
as if pandora could read xenophilius’ thoughts, word for word, she begins walking —— taking off ; as if journeying to a brighter place un-eclipsed by the moment of sadness which had momentarily filled this corridor. xenophilius follows where she leads ; catching up, closing the distance between them with a few long paces, easing into the gentlest of smiles as he feels like he fits there. just so. “ i’d like nothing more than to present my spectrespecs to you. ” xenophilius inclines, a tender laugh spilling from his centre as the girl preempts his next talking point. pandora’s aura.
“ i’m in agreement with your mother —— for there’s no doubt in my mind that your aura is a wonderfully bright one, to be sure. ” xenophilius hums thoughtfully, an earnestness colouring each syllable of his words —— “ very possibly bright orange, yes, yes. ” here, xenophilius punctuates the small ponderous space which fills the air between this statement and the next, with one, then two little nods of his head. “ but what colour do you feel your aura is, pandora ? the world may see you one way, or another —— but at the end of the day i believe that perhaps no one knows who we truly are, but ourselves alone. ”
Them not being able to be drowned would be a good thing, but pushing them further into anyone’s head, especially Xeno’s, would not be very good. Even as their conversation had continued, Pandora could sense the sadness despite the warmth that etched each of his words. In a way, it was beautiful. Regardless of the emotions that plagued his heart (and his ears), he could still find something to reminisce about. “Maybe the best way to get them out is to listen to sad music or listen to sad stories, poems?” Pandora thought aloud to Xenophilius. Not that she was attempting to correct him or speak as if she knew more than him. Very much so did she understand and respect that he was the expert between the two of them. They were just theories in an endless array of possibilities that had now been presented to her. Each answer only led to more questions, which only excited Pandora further.
Pandora pause for a moment, but a moment for Pandora was an hour for most others. She had always known what she wanted and who she was. Yes, people talked the way they wanted to talk about her, and at times it hurt, but there was no purpose in lying and keeping up a façade on who she was.
Within this small pause, she looked over her shoulder to Xenophilius. “Yellow, then, if we go use my mum’s knowledge of auras and crystals as a reference,” she corrected both her mother and Xenophilius. “Energetic, childish, creative, free. Orange is usually self-centered. I’m a lot of things, but that is one thing I know I’m not. Or maybe I’m partial because its my favorite, but yellow I think suits me better.”
Taking time to think was never on Pandora’s agenda. The mere suggestion of it caused her to wrinkle her nose at Xeno. “But, if we dwell too much on ourselves, how are we going to see everything there is in life?” she asked Xeno with a tilt of her head. To her, there was too much to see, to much to try, and too much to experience. There was no way all of that could happen, especially if she spent too much time worrying about knowing herself. “There are already too few hours in the day to explore the rest of the world outside our heads, let alone what is in them.”
And with that, she turned on her heels and continued onwards. “Will I need one of these glasses made special for me?” Pandora asked with almost too much excitement in her voice. The thought of seeing Xeno craft one or, perhaps even better, being allowed to craft one herself tickled her with delight.
