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06-05-2017, 03:08 PM
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otem
You'll remember me when the west wind moves upon the fields of barley You can tell the sun in his jealous sky when we walked in fields of gold "The other children call their parents mother and father, or some such variation." Otem observed, stepping closer and folding her small wings tightly around her equally small frame to protect against the chilly ocean breeze. As Hubris trilled a hello, the girl merely looked down at him with wide sombre eyes and nodded in response. "Why are you different?" Otem asked suddenly, turning back to look at Isopia. The filly's expression was as meticulously masked as her mother's was, although there was a youthfulness that made her seem more open and less closed off and hardened the way Isopia often did. "I get the feeling I am meant to call Volterra Father, or Apa as one of his other children does. Why shall I call you Isopia and not Mother? What is the root of your preference?" Finally her rambling stopped. Unlike Isopia, Otem did not bother to fit her thoughts into succinct soundbites before speaking them. Instead, she merely opened her lips and let the words flow out. |
