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arakh and esinakh
Her white eyes widen at the thought of learning to fly—even if Rak was her teacher. He was safe, but flying… But then he speaks of sitting on clean, white clouds and the immediate refusal melts from her face. “Clean?” her hopeful, interested voice parrots the word. It was clear that, to Esi, the idea of sitting on a clean cloud alongside brother-calf was her idea of absolute nirvana.
But she isn’t left long to dwell on her personal ideal of heaven, as another ball of clay beings to coalesce with droplets, shaking and vibrating as sand is pushed out of it’s innards and to its surface. Unknown to the little calf, her absolute happiness at the thought of her and Rak on clouds together has channeled into the clay that was so acutely tied to her emotions.
And then Rak is there stepping in front of her and keeping her safe from the very clay that threatens to smother her every day along her back. His wings flare, blocking the clay from her view, though she does not mind. She has seen enough filth for a lifetime (despite the brevity of hers thus far). “What it doing, Rak?” Her loud whisper sounded from her relative safety behind his wings.
…but the strange thing was that Esi already knew what the clay was doing. Somehow, the imprinted vision of her and Rak on clouds moulded in to clay in her mind—much to her distress. Now the dirt was in her mind? She shifted behind brother-calf as the two clay balls rose out of the sand, now fully formed and still. They were in the rough shapes of two grey calves, though the pale sand had shifted on one to coat the horns while on the other it had moved to vaguely imitate Esi’s white markings.
She snorted in relief as the strange, clay-sludge in her mind left. “They calves?” Her question sounded, again, from behind Arakh’s wings, knowing what the clay was without even seeing it. “Now Esi always have Rak,” her voice was beginning to fade as exhaustion hit her young mind, hard, “And Rak have Esi.” And then she leaned heavily against her brother-calf.
But she isn’t left long to dwell on her personal ideal of heaven, as another ball of clay beings to coalesce with droplets, shaking and vibrating as sand is pushed out of it’s innards and to its surface. Unknown to the little calf, her absolute happiness at the thought of her and Rak on clouds together has channeled into the clay that was so acutely tied to her emotions.
And then Rak is there stepping in front of her and keeping her safe from the very clay that threatens to smother her every day along her back. His wings flare, blocking the clay from her view, though she does not mind. She has seen enough filth for a lifetime (despite the brevity of hers thus far). “What it doing, Rak?” Her loud whisper sounded from her relative safety behind his wings.
…but the strange thing was that Esi already knew what the clay was doing. Somehow, the imprinted vision of her and Rak on clouds moulded in to clay in her mind—much to her distress. Now the dirt was in her mind? She shifted behind brother-calf as the two clay balls rose out of the sand, now fully formed and still. They were in the rough shapes of two grey calves, though the pale sand had shifted on one to coat the horns while on the other it had moved to vaguely imitate Esi’s white markings.
She snorted in relief as the strange, clay-sludge in her mind left. “They calves?” Her question sounded, again, from behind Arakh’s wings, knowing what the clay was without even seeing it. “Now Esi always have Rak,” her voice was beginning to fade as exhaustion hit her young mind, hard, “And Rak have Esi.” And then she leaned heavily against her brother-calf.
in a world of chaos
you are my calm
@Arakh
Esi crafted 2 small clay calf figurines! One has white sand over the horns (imitating Rak) and the other has white markings like Esi!
I think Rak could take the Esi look-alike & Esi take the Rak look-alike?
Please tag Esinakh.
