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10-07-2013, 09:34 PM
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I have been thinking quite a lot lately. I do not mean to make it sound as though this is a new activity for me, as I had a quite introspective youth; rather, my intention is to draw attention to the focus of my thoughts. You see, the sun has returned, and with it my magic, and I have spent the better part of the last week on the Wall. It is not anywhere near complete, and I found myself quite useless in the battle waged not so long ago on our sands. I do not wish to sit idly by while my family fights and dies for me, but I cannot bring myself to take up arms against another living soul. And so I have taken to that which I have come to know: crafting. I had thought that it would provide me not only a way to protect my family, but also a way to escape my own thoughts. I could not have been more wrong. Though a pleasant job and one that requires a moderate physical effort, it is not one that is particularly demanding of my attention, which finds itself wandering again and again to the thoughts that plagued me throughout the endless night. As I frown absently, my brow creasing as I push a particularly stubborn bit of iron into place, I find myself again wondering what has become of my morals. Oh, I am quite wonderful when it comes to ideals on equality, on acceptance. But what about more personal issues - like love and lust and all of those things? I have not been so very successful on that front, with my mate running off to gods-know-where and the lover that I took to replace him (though, in truth, it really wasn't like that) being so desperately brutish that I can't even get across the concept of a daughter to him. Oh, yes, I have such a lovely life, don't you think? I really do have a wonderful life, and wonderful daughters (though one did leave me) and a wonderful herd... but everyone likes to feel sorry for themselves now and then, wouldn't you agree? And so my thoughts turn once again to my distinctly lacking love life, and I find myself on the same topic as I have all throughout the darkness: children. Oh, I love my daughters fiercely, as any mother should, but that does not mean that I want more. And, particularly with that strange longing that fills me in Gaucho's presence, I am afraid that without something to deter me, I will end up pregnant yet again when I fail to put off his advances. Not, I think reproachfully, that I want to put him off. Our mutual attraction is nearly a physical thing, it's so strong, and while I may think perfectly clearly here and now, without him, I know that the next time that smoldering, primal gaze lands on me, I will without a doubt be his. What can I do, then, except prevent pregnancy, if one can even do such a thing? I ought to have asked Onni, that day when she met us at the border. I ought to have sought her out a million times since then. But then the battle came, and she was surely busy with actual wounds that needed tending, and my problems seemed so very trivial in comparison. And so I have stayed away. I shove, hard, at a new slate of metal with my magic, the exertion causing a light sheen to break out on my bodice. The rose pendant, a memoir of my not-quite-relationship with Gaucho, sways gently on my nape, reflecting in the sun. I suppose it might be better if I did not carry him around so, but then I cannot bear to part with the trinket. The metal in place, I tuck my nape in such a way that I can lip absently at the chain. It is a habit that I have begun in recent months, usually when I am considering my next move. @[Onni] [OOC | If you have enough time, Boom, I'd love an Onni thread. If not (and even if you join in), this is completely open for whomever!] "Talk talk talk." @[name] |
| Sohalia Don't wanna leave this life knowing I barely tried... |
