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10-10-2012, 08:18 PM
The stench of blood was not something I was accustomed to smelling. It drifted, much like the bad smell it is, across the lands, carried by the chilly mists and ocean breezes. It wakes me up from my slumber, though admittedly, I have not been sleeping deeply of late. There is a new life swelling my belly, causing me discomfort and frequent toilet stops - but do I regret my actions that have inevitably led me to be in this condition? Not for a second. The rounding of my barrel is subtle yet, the fresh life within me hinted at more than obviously screaming out loud to any who might glance my way. This is a discomfort I am accustomed to. The bloody mess that is strewn out before me is a strange, new discomfort. "I hope that bird of yours cleans up this mess swiftly." My tones were rather blunt, delivered in a voice that was still waking up from a night's restless slumber. I had wandered from my sleeping place towards the scent of blood, going against what my instincts were commanding me to run away from, and instead allowing my curiosity to draw me closer. The grey stallion whose hide was draped in leather and scars seemed very intent on his work. Dirk mewed softly from my back, curious, even willing to help them in their task should meat be rewarded to him in the end. I smile at him, affectionately, tilting my tiara to allow me to view him with ease. I suppose I was growing used to meat and bloodshed of other animals, due to the hunting habits of my little feline. The little brown cat leaps from my back and creeps closer, crouched low, his belly scraping along the ground. He is curious, and desiring to go and leap upon the fallen little creatures. I whicker a warning to him, however, not truly knowing how Coris might react to such an intrusion on his workspace. "Are you making another coat?" I ask innocently, thinking fondly of the lynx pelt that is draped across my son's shoulders, aiding to keep him protected from this chilly season. Was it selfish, or beyond my rights to think that he might be making more gifts for the King's concubine? Perhaps he was making something for the King himself. Who knew. |
