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The Elephant King is a strong stallion. He is a strong bull elephant, as well. But not as strong as those of the plains, for his quest with the Earth God was not complete. And not so strong (or unfeeling) to carry his old friend’s lifeless body, cradled gently on his trunk and tusks, back to their home and remain untouched by it.
His attention, though inundated by the painful loss that was Nyx, did not miss the stumbling silence of Oizys behind him. Nor the equally voiceless trampling steps of Arakh behind her— not too long ago the bull-horned twins were bidding their mother goodbye at these very borders. Now…now they returned to give a final farewell.
The King halted as Oizys did, grave navy eyes watching her painfully shift into a bear and recklessly tear into the earth. He remained still and silent, watching—letting both her and her brother dig this grave. He understood the need to gouge the earth for the final resting place for loved ones—just as their abandonment gouged a hole in one’s chest.
So he stood, a large grey titan with a pale, lifeless body supported in his trunk. His body trembled every few moments, exhausted with keeping this elephantine form—but he would retain it, for Nyx. His strange, undulated teeth grit as he felt that his own wrinkled skin was now warmer that the limp body he carried.
And when the grave was finally dug, his cobalt eyes looked slowly from each child, and then he gently bent his head to lay the Woman King to rest. Slowly, tiredly, his long trunk reached for Dominus’s crumpled white body, returning him to his rightful place alongside his bonded. His trunk then scooped a mound of earth over her body, before he finally (exhausted and anguished) shifted back into his equid form.
“Here lies Nyx,” was his low, sad rumble, “Fiercely loyal to the Edge, to her children, and to her friends until the last,” a pause as his deep voice grew hoarse, “Her wit and her spark will be forever missed. Long live the Ironheart.” And then he fell silent, lips pressed in a thick line as he stared down into the grave. “Pumzika.”
Though always filled, graves left such empty holes.
His attention, though inundated by the painful loss that was Nyx, did not miss the stumbling silence of Oizys behind him. Nor the equally voiceless trampling steps of Arakh behind her— not too long ago the bull-horned twins were bidding their mother goodbye at these very borders. Now…now they returned to give a final farewell.
The King halted as Oizys did, grave navy eyes watching her painfully shift into a bear and recklessly tear into the earth. He remained still and silent, watching—letting both her and her brother dig this grave. He understood the need to gouge the earth for the final resting place for loved ones—just as their abandonment gouged a hole in one’s chest.
So he stood, a large grey titan with a pale, lifeless body supported in his trunk. His body trembled every few moments, exhausted with keeping this elephantine form—but he would retain it, for Nyx. His strange, undulated teeth grit as he felt that his own wrinkled skin was now warmer that the limp body he carried.
And when the grave was finally dug, his cobalt eyes looked slowly from each child, and then he gently bent his head to lay the Woman King to rest. Slowly, tiredly, his long trunk reached for Dominus’s crumpled white body, returning him to his rightful place alongside his bonded. His trunk then scooped a mound of earth over her body, before he finally (exhausted and anguished) shifted back into his equid form.
“Here lies Nyx,” was his low, sad rumble, “Fiercely loyal to the Edge, to her children, and to her friends until the last,” a pause as his deep voice grew hoarse, “Her wit and her spark will be forever missed. Long live the Ironheart.” And then he fell silent, lips pressed in a thick line as he stared down into the grave. “Pumzika.”
Though always filled, graves left such empty holes.
the Elephant King
@Oizys @Arakh
Please tag Tembovu.
