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“I’m sorry.”
The quiet, sad murmur strikes him viciously. The phrase, so simple and innocuous, tell the King one thing: Nyx is dying. She cannot stay her with them. And it nearly brings the Elephant to his knees. A long, low, painful breath is pushed out of his lungs by the sudden, leaden presence in his chest.
His ears tilted back and his throat ached. His jaw clenched as his eyes do not leave the fallen warrior’s pale face, seeking to study every inch of it as Dominus doles out her belongings. He watches her as she speaks to her children—all old enough to survive without a mother. But not old enough to live without one.
His lips pressed together, but the part as his great head nods in answer to her request to be buried in the Edge, “Of course, my General. There is no other place for you to rest.” His grin doesn’t reach his eyes, nor does it match the anguish in his low, hushed rumble. His heart thundered in his chest, pounding a painful rhythm against his ribs that suddenly felt constricted despite the breadth of his chest.
Gingerly, Mbwene lifts up the Spark Amulet; her bonded's grief is to absolute to allow her any snarky or pert gestures towards the white lion. No, instead she securely wrapped the amulet in her trunk, softly stroking its charged surface with the tip of trunk. "Thank you, my friend. Pumzika," was Tembovu's soft reply.
Then, with a quietness that was not granted to many warriors, and surrounded by those that loved her, the Woman King passed into the great beyond.
A single, low, painful note came from the King’s throat. It was short, but poignant. And then he began to shift into his elephantine form, in order to carry her body back to the Edge. But, as he was paralyzed in transformation, his mind was anything but immobile. It roiled with memories of Nyx.
Their first encounter—in the Secret Grove. He had been hurting then, and she had turned a chuckled out of him and distracted him with battle—then later, with her body. And, later, she was a loyal supporter of his regency in the Edge; dedicated to her own task of protecting the herd. And a fierce mother to her children, no matter their outbursts or actions. She had been a friend, one of his oldest in Helovia. Tart humor and no-nonsense, she had been a pillar to the Elephant’s life, to her children, and to the Edge.
Finished changing, he slowly stepped forward on giant limbs and round feet. His trunk (gently, reverently) picked up the broken body.
And he started for the Edge, the Elephant’s blue eyes more filled than usual.
Pumzika = Rest, or rest in peace
The quiet, sad murmur strikes him viciously. The phrase, so simple and innocuous, tell the King one thing: Nyx is dying. She cannot stay her with them. And it nearly brings the Elephant to his knees. A long, low, painful breath is pushed out of his lungs by the sudden, leaden presence in his chest.
His ears tilted back and his throat ached. His jaw clenched as his eyes do not leave the fallen warrior’s pale face, seeking to study every inch of it as Dominus doles out her belongings. He watches her as she speaks to her children—all old enough to survive without a mother. But not old enough to live without one.
His lips pressed together, but the part as his great head nods in answer to her request to be buried in the Edge, “Of course, my General. There is no other place for you to rest.” His grin doesn’t reach his eyes, nor does it match the anguish in his low, hushed rumble. His heart thundered in his chest, pounding a painful rhythm against his ribs that suddenly felt constricted despite the breadth of his chest.
Gingerly, Mbwene lifts up the Spark Amulet; her bonded's grief is to absolute to allow her any snarky or pert gestures towards the white lion. No, instead she securely wrapped the amulet in her trunk, softly stroking its charged surface with the tip of trunk. "Thank you, my friend. Pumzika," was Tembovu's soft reply.
Then, with a quietness that was not granted to many warriors, and surrounded by those that loved her, the Woman King passed into the great beyond.
A single, low, painful note came from the King’s throat. It was short, but poignant. And then he began to shift into his elephantine form, in order to carry her body back to the Edge. But, as he was paralyzed in transformation, his mind was anything but immobile. It roiled with memories of Nyx.
Their first encounter—in the Secret Grove. He had been hurting then, and she had turned a chuckled out of him and distracted him with battle—then later, with her body. And, later, she was a loyal supporter of his regency in the Edge; dedicated to her own task of protecting the herd. And a fierce mother to her children, no matter their outbursts or actions. She had been a friend, one of his oldest in Helovia. Tart humor and no-nonsense, she had been a pillar to the Elephant’s life, to her children, and to the Edge.
Finished changing, he slowly stepped forward on giant limbs and round feet. His trunk (gently, reverently) picked up the broken body.
And he started for the Edge, the Elephant’s blue eyes more filled than usual.
Pumzika = Rest, or rest in peace
Tembovu
The Elephant King
Please tag Tembovu.
