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Bellona
weakness in the flesh, misery in the bones The snow rises in silence, neither resisting nor contending with the wind that has brought it astir. The curtains of crystalline powder serve their turns as drab garnishes for the landscape before returning to the frozen land where they were lifted from. What little grass is present here shivers at the touch of the drifting snow, yet the brittle sound of dried stalks clacking together is not enough to disrupt the calm that embodies the steppe. Those who traverse these plains frequently may accept the silence as one who greets a friend, but to others it is chilling -- and perhaps more so than the weather itself. Despite its misgivings, though, the frost-bitten land truly is breathtaking; perhaps that is why the stranger has come. "You come, Mictla. You come." The words are sombre and lack conviction, but even so the boy knows they are orders. Just as he knows that this is not like her. "What do you mean 'not like me'? I am myself -- don't you dare say otherwise." Her tone is bitter now, and the boy has to rear up to avoid a lashing tail. Gently, his mind reaches out to hers, meaning only to probe it for the cause of this sudden anger rather than provoke her further. As the boy has come to expect, though, his actions have proven to do the latter. "Get out of my head, itzcuintli. You do not belong in there." The exuberant warrior throws her head back as if to dispel his very presence, and the spotted cub looks on in silence. She knows just as well as he that nothing can be done to remove the bond. Sadness creeps up on the boy like a scuttling beetle, but he rejects the emotion as soon as he can detect it. He has tried to express his pain to the stubborn bird before, and no good ever came of that endeavour. Rather than try to make her realize the potential in him, or to speak up and confront her about his mistreatment, though, the hyena eases his rump into the snow to sit and wait it out. A yawn forces its way past his tiny teeth, and his blue gaze settles on one of the wisps that trail after the pacing peacock. After moons of having only an incredibly stubborn woman to keep you company, you learn to accept that her decisions are the best ones. "talk talk talk" {Wow this is terrible. I'm so rusty. Forgive me. DX itzcuintli -- "dog"} |
Thank you Vossity <3
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Permission granted for physical harassment!
