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12-21-2016, 12:09 PM
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Maude didn’t think of how her father’s sight might effect her now, but certainly would at some point, or another. All she worried about, now, was to be sure and grab it anytime she noticed it left behind, and her father no where near. She would always be sure to seek him out, lantern in tow, just in case he found himself in the dark, without it. Perhaps that desire to be a beacon, herself, is what drives her questions about the Sun God, or simply the fact that he is a God, a creator of the world, and a wielder of high magic. The notion of any being that could create or be something as magnificent as fire, or the Sun itself, makes Maude’s imagination send her soaring up, up into realms of fantasy only children may reach, and that the Sun, with the other Gods of Helovia, had together made all the world she had ever seen (much of it beautiful), only added to the heights her father’s words sent her spinning into. Dreamy eyed, and staring, she hangs off each word as if there is a spell binding her to each syllable, so that when her father concludes, it takes her a moment to begin expelling normally immediate questions. “Does he not have wings, like the Goddess of the Moon?” is her first question, which is haunted by a second, silent inquiry: how can he get up to the sky if he can’t fly? However, she skips it over for another question, one that might not be answered by her first: “And is he a warrior, too? I can see that. Fire is very tough, and dangerous.” At first, when her father’s face begins to fall into dark contemplation, Maude thinks it’s something she’s said that has upset him. Somehow, though, she thinks that can’t be the case; he’d been more than happy to answer them before, and the topic hadn’t changed at all. So, she stares at him from across the fire, the light dancing across both their faces, her father looking as if his stomach really, really hurt, and Maude as if she were the most confused girl in all the world. She’s just about decided that he’s started thinking about mommy again when the horrible silence is broken. How it’s broken, however, is almost as bad as the silence itself, and her confusion blooms into worry almost immediately, her ears lifting, and her heart thudding hard in her breast. He won’t look at her, though she seeks his eyes. She seeks them so desperately that she almost misses what he’s saying, and when does realize, she stops, and instead stares intently at the gleam of the fire against his cocoa antlers. He loved mommy? Of course he did! Why was he telling her that? How was she too young? What had he done, her perfect, caring father, that was so horrible, that could keep him from looking at her with love, as he always did? What he says after he walks away doesn’t immediately resolve any of these questions for her, the girl unfortunately too distraught by her father’s unusual behavior, and the abrupt change of situation, to think clearly. She had twin brothers? Wasn’t that supposed to be something to be happy about? She certainly had never been to a birth where anyone was ashamed, and also had very little idea about how babies were made. She’d never asked. However, staring at the fire, and putting together all the small clues she’d been given, it all starts to click together. With each clasped clue, her ears tilt back a little further, her frown grows a little deeper, and those perfect, shining green eyes, usually laughing, glinting, aglow, grow hard. He loved mommy. He’d been lost. He couldn’t even look at her. She had brothers. It’s her turn to get to her feet, now. She does so without her usual care for grace and ladylike tact, her hooves clamoring on the floor. “Why?” she shouts, bemoans, her delicate voice breaking under the weight of tears which rise to her eyes, unbidden, born of anger, and betrayal, “that’s fair to no one, daddy!” Her hoof stomps down, her small tail smacks angrily against her sides. It’s the first time in her life she’s felt any of these things, and they fall into the warm waters of her nearly perfect youth like stones at absolute zero, or chunks of molten rock pelted from the maw of a volcano. Her heart is breaking, but it won’t stop thundering within her chest, and the fragments it casts about hurt. She thinks about her mommy’s feelings, and how this truth is a dagger aimed directly at them, which her father has now given Maude, to carry, too. She thinks about her brothers (how many where there?), and if they have been given her fathers love fairly. She wonders if she will be given love fairly, too. Will he have time for her anymore, with so many other children to tend to? What if… what if mommy couldn’t forgive him? What did that mean for their family? The thought is so horrible that she can’t stand here anymore, and with a frustrated sob of hurt and apathy, she canters out into the night, a tear-muddled shout sounding over the rhythmic patter of her small hooves against the frozen earth: “I don’t want any of this! You just leave me alone, you…you jerk!” [ OOC: DDDDDDDD': ] |
@Tilney
Hold onto this lullaby, even when the music's gone.
