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Daughters of darkness Sisters insane
Her face is gone, or so it feels. She is minutes old, and knows nothing but pain - the evil, searing, ripping, stinging pain. Then, the weight of talons vacate her face. Their absence is even worse than their presence, as it leaves the wounds gaping and open to the air. Her screaming ceases, edging down towards a low murmur. Strong daughters don't scream. Survivors of eagles don't scream. Goddesses don't scream. But it's so hard not to scream. Mother tries to touch her, to nurse the wound as mothers do, but the filly snatches her head away with an agonised gargle. The thought of anything touching her injuries, even mother-tongue, fills her with dread. She can see nothing out of that side; as far as she knows, her eye is lost. It's only when she dares open it that she realises she still has sight, albeit blurred and stinging from the blood pouring in great furrows from her brow to her jaw. The daughter of the serpent is alive, but the Thanatos drive in her mind points out that perhaps she'd be better off dead, if this agony is the alternative. No. She is young, but this thought is quite lucid. She cannot die. Goddesses cannot die! So she turns, slithers on her knees towards Father. Standing is beyond her; the blood loss is too great, and she'd hardly dampened her lips with mother's milk before the harpy took her. But she looks up at him through defiant grey eyes - his eyes - and turns her head to display the ruined, ravaged right side. See? she screams, silently. I survived. Your strength is my strength, father. I survived. Is that a hint of reverence, obsession, in her face, or is it just the blood? She glances at Enyo, sister survivor, then looks back to Father. Let him look at what he has created! Let him gaze upon what he can nurture, raise, mould into perfection! |
@Enyo
