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02-08-2014, 06:18 PM
 If I’d known how high I sat on some strange intangible pedestal my frame likely would have ended up sprawled out across the tropical musky floor as a roaring fire bellowing laughter, trembling each rigidly trained tendon until the porcelain cracks in my soul broke forth and tears flew free. I was no mythical creature, no god, nor hero. Nay, had I been able to peer behind the recesses of cartilage and bone—I’d likely shamed their thoughts of me with mindless humor.
The young newcomer was slow to answer at first, I waited patiently for his pause to form a complete sentence. When the lad answered with enthusiastic note and shy laugh my crown nodded, not as deeply as before but still a noticeable acknowledgement to his words and the approval of them. Africa spoke again, and it seemed to me that she was very nearly fawning over the youth; as a mother might a gangly wide eyed child. Ma traits that served her position as Oracle very well. Fina spared a disinterested glance toward Silas, with a sliver of gore hanging between clamped jaws. When he dropped away, she audibly clicked then went back to ravaging the kill once more. Africa then did something rather unique, something that pricked my heart and crumbled the smile upon my face for a split second when the memory of Cera came blazing forward. I’d given him an amulet of protection, in a very similar fashion that she now blessed Marco with. The Oracle gave away her mythical pendant, filled with a drop of Earth blood likely without a thought toward personal need. My gaze lingered on them without seeing the two as they were, softening as thoughts ran past to place myself in her image and Cera in Marco’s. I could almost smell the warm husk of his pelt, silken smooth and tanned by the sun…In a flash my face once again relaxed back into its previous facade of warmth and compassion, likely avoiding their detection by the swiftness of recovery and their own distraction with each other. Our colours come alive when I collide with you
with you, with you
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