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06-20-2015, 05:41 PM
Those Red Eyes
Red ruby deception
defy me, commit me to an
agony, uncertainty remains
your territory just please
let me be, in silence
or bring me some peace
in company.
ASHAMIN
BEAUTY IS PERCEPTION
BEAUTY IS PERCEPTION
When the meeting had concluded, Ashamin, nervous and feeling suddenly alone, had stayed behind. He had needed to talk to the herd leads, the new and the old. To him, all but Thranduil had been new--he had been thankful to see the Golden, and even more thankful when a plan had given the conversation direction.
And now, just a few night later, it was time to speak with them again. He had returned exhausted from his past-midnight patrol and encounter with the trespasser and slept for much of the following day, awakening only in the late evening when the egg, nestled against his breath, had stirred.
Is it time? he had thought to the little thing, breath bated, hopes high. But no, it apparently was not. Another day would have to pass, another day at least.
Perhaps it was for the best--with the herd leads on their way, the last thing he needed to explain to them was a sticky newborn on his cave floor. Hoping to distract himself, he had set the egg to rest on the pile of dried grasses he had formed behind a rock and before the mirror. There it was safe as he wandered towards the entrance of the cave, his cave, and narrowed his eyes in search. The evening was low, the moon just beginning to rise, but soon the time to speak with the God of the Spark would come.
To say the least, the young Haruspex was nervous.
Ashamin waited with anxiousness rolling in the pit of his stomach, his white hooves pressed firmly into the permafrost at his threshold. Beside him the glass scorpion, apparently a gift given to the herd, stared up at him with the two rubies set into its feature. The young buck felt the heat of its stare as if it were cold--anxiously, he turned from it's ominous omniscience.
The wind came to his door and battered his chest. The songs of predators, wolves, came from the distance and reminded him of one of the reasons for this meeting. The wolves. How had he been meant to tell his herd leads of the fear he held for such creatures? Had he been meant to at all?
Ashamin had bit his tongue, as he always did. And now, as he watched for the silhouettes of the trio to approach, he kept it bit, still. There it rested, caught between his teeth, a silence he forced on himself. He could only hope they would come soon.
[[Mirror gazing thread for @[Deimos], @[Hotaru], and @[Thranduil]. If at all possible, could they post once and Ashamin post one more time at least before @[Official]/@[God of the Spark] tags?]]
Table by Jen, with help from Avis
See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
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