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04-29-2016, 08:04 AM
Once again the words that find their way slipping out from between the monstrous mare's teeth have a foreign hue to them. Is it I that am strange, or is it she? My dark lids flutter to close over the gold eyes that burn like an ancestry I do not yet understand. There is a fire inside me that is more ancient than Helovia's heart.
Veleta vizago, she says of the flaps on the side of her face, and I try to roll the taste of the sound on my tongue once more. It's difficult to mimic when I can't let loose the sound, but my mouth moves as if I were parroting back every unknown word she employed. Kahelo, she calls me, and for this word I do the same. It takes another moment before I realize that this, kahelo, is what she has chosen to call me.
And the feeling is strange, like the odd lilt of her voice as it rings in the cavern and the sensation of her breath travelling along my neck. And I think it's like affection, like caring enough to try and give a name to someone who cannot give it himself. And I wonder how normal this is, for people to reach out to the wounded and small.
I wonder if I can ever do the same.
I turn to look back at the fire, my head bobbing in approval of the name she has given me, and perhaps my nose brushes her chest as I re-position myself. There is so much history in that fire that I do not know... as I look at her from the corner of my eye, I can only wonder if this flame, too, is something she has a name for.
""
I am not sure if it is
BETTER OR WORSE
to know all that I do
BETTER OR WORSE
to know all that I do
@Aquila!
