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06-27-2013, 03:50 AM
Hellena
Though the infection was gone, the feverish nightmares remained, evidenced by the tremors and moans that travelled through the poor mare laying beside me. My only comfort when thinking of her suffering, was that it would all be over soon. For once, I welcomed the rising of the Sun, the warming of the ground, the beginning of a day that would eventuate in the beginning of a long healing process; things could only go up from here - we would not allow it to get worse again. As the Sun rose, so too did I, feeling the stirrings of consciousness take the mare, I was sure to be out of range of flailing limbs and appendages. As she rose, and shouted to her bonded, I could only smile a small, warm smile, it's presence upon my lips inviting and welcoming to the idea of kinship shared not only between the bonded creatures, but between all of us, as sisters of herds in a firm alliance. The same observation is made of the healer and her dragon, and I wonder if I would ever be fortunate enough to bond with a companion - if it was even possible for one of my ancient bloodline, and age. I digress, however."Africa," I speak warmly, as Smoke's words come to a halt, my voice filling the silence that would otherwise consume us into a further delirium. "I am Hellena, and this is Smoke and Zaffre,"- it mattered not how I knew the names - it was my duty to know all that occurred within the herd, and so I did -"we are allies, my dear, and shall deliver you home again once you feel up to the journey. For now, please, rest, eat, heal. Listen to your bonded - he will help you remember what pain might have blinded from your mind, if you wish to validate our words." Asking the mare to revisit her pain was, in my opinion, better to be done sooner rather than later. But she was among friends, kind souls willing to listen to whatever she had to say, whatever questions she had to demand of us, whatever needs she required filling. I had to wonder whether she would hold judgement against me or my words for the horn I wore upon my brow, but those of the Throat and Edge were generally tolerant of all species, despite the abject racism of those in the North suggesting supremacist ideals to exist within each unicorn soul. in rumor we find truth and in life we find lies, death offers only a temporary respite. |
