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02-20-2017, 12:06 PM
Maude had only been to the statue a few times, finding something about the glass dragon insidious. Perhaps it was just her imagination, a child’s mind elongating the fangs, and adding a snarl to the lines of its scaly maw which were not truly there, but it frightened her. Like anything which made her feel that way, the girl went out of her way to avoid the thing, unless she was asked there directly, or accidentally lost track in her wandering, and stumbled on it. So it was today. She is humming to herself (as she almost always is) preoccupied with the most elaborate concept she has contrived for a song yet, rather lost in rearranging words, and finding new lines. An homage to the Gods, it is a song she wishes to teach her mother, so that, maybe, they might sing it together in praise of them; though the girl has never gone with her dam on her morning meditations (and been allowed to stay, at least), she fancies the idea of one day getting to. Though she is aware she has a lot of growing up to do between then and now, the bouncy, cheerful child cannot help but come up with things to do, for the day when she can at last stand to stand in silence for so long. Silence is easily found when she realizes where she has wound up, however, that old fright at the sight of the dragon statue rising up inside of her, all cold and hot at the same time, and she wants to backpedal away, except that there are other people here. Their company somehow makes the gaze of the dragon that much less severe, and, though her knees are still a bit wobbly, and she definitely doesn’t feel like humming anymore, the child is awfully curious, and finds herself making her way towards the gathered individuals. Lots of them are dragons, she notes, looking up in the tree at the pretty, scaled creatures. She likes companion dragons well enough, despite her silly worry over the statue being somehow dangerous, and admires their handsome shine before her eyes fall, with a beaming smile, on Tandavi. “Oh, hello again, miss Tandavi!” she cheerfully intones, coming to a stop alongside Yael (and offering her a sweet smile, too), not quite catching that the chestnut is quite somber this afternoon, to preoccupied with the purely bizarre number of dragons about, “what are we all doing?” She asks, wondering, with a shudder, if the statue had moved or something. ’cause I’m holding her in my arms |
Hold onto this lullaby, even when the music's gone.
