👁👁👁 ancients
So many of her children are gone. With Gelfling either dead or scattered throughout the stars that she spent too long off wandering through herself, and Podling either enslaved or living under the looming threat of more Garthim raids, and the land and the Crystal both horridly abused-
Thra is quiet.
The song is faint, and many voices are missing. But some, some- some can still be heard. From time to time, she follows them out. So far from Thra, they are still her children, and she still watches over them.
With a long groan, she settles into a seated position on the naked ground, and closes one of her remaining eyes. She sends her consciousness out of her body, and drifts for a while. Most Gelfling are settled somewhere; some still wander.
She finds one, curled up asleep on a bed made for one twice her size, black hair streaked with the darkest blue-green splayed out on the white pillow she holds close to her. This one has been drifting a long while- and even now, asleep, she drifts through the stars on a great silver ship. She follows her into her dream, and has a few words with her...
But there is another here that she knows. Has known, for age upon age. One of few Aughra would call ‘an old friend.’ But then, all of Aughra’s friends are old. He is not of Thra, like her sleeping child, but of Gallifrey, one of Thra’s sisters. Her astral form reaches out, her voice comes echoing.
“Hmm! I go looking for Gelfling; look who I find! Been a long time, hasn’t it?”
@fatheroftardis