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10-16-2016, 02:25 PM
 Turns out your dad's a pretty popular guy. His call hangs in the air as you breathe in; as you breathe out. Then some of the strangest creatures you've yet seen are answering it. The first — the first is big the way mountains are big, and his voice booms like rocks falling when he speaks. Never have you been more glad to stand behind Mesec and peer out, especially when the king's.... friend.... rushes you, trumpeting in her own strange voice. What the hell? What the hell is she? The king sort of answers — Mbwene. Vesper has more to say about loud Mbwene than you do. You're busy just watching, your thoughts whirring as they struggle to wrap around the size of this king (king, like.... who was king of the Basin?) and the strange shape of his companion, and the place behind him, the place he owns, your new home... Your head swings when another voice joins the cacophony of voices, and you remember very few times in your young life you wanted to run away so badly. It isn't fear hammering in your chest — not really. It's — it's the everyone, their voices mixing in the unfamiliar air. It's the World's Edge, smelling not of pine and earth and hot springs steam but something else, something bitter like the sea and damp like rain. It's this weird black and white girl hurtling up to you, crowing at your father, and you don't know her, don't like her, don't want her or the king or Mbwene anywhere near you at all — If you were younger, wilder, you would run. You think about it, anyway. Words climb up your throat, begging to come screaming out, and one black eye swings back the way you came. You could go. You could run until you found a quieter place, a place full of the scent of pine and safety. But you don't. You are — you're obedient. Letting go of that little dream, you let your head hang, eyes boring into the dirt at your hooves. If you don't look at anything, if you don't acknowledge anyone, maybe you can pretend they're not here. Maybe you can numb yourself to the discomfort crawling like bugs under your skin. So you're silent, but inwardly, angrily, you're thinking how much, how aggressively, you don't care about any of this. Virga we prayed for rain |
teen angst :V
