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10-16-2013, 04:44 PM
Time came and time went. The small garron seemed unmarked on the exterior, but she was starting to feel the maturity seeping through her bones. When she was younger, it had been the easiest thing in the world to commit herself to being a soldier, a machine, an organ of war. But now, as the years had gone by, she was afraid that she was getting sentimental. Now, you must remember that this is Korra we're talking about - in her book, sentiment is any feeling that is not rage, annoyance, distrust or bloodlust. It was not like she was going around advertising this, though. If anything, she had actually gotten more gruff and dismissive. If that is even possible. For that same reason, this particular day, she was roaming through the Basin on her own, patrolling the borders as any good soldier should, keeping out the vermin. Rough-haired mane lay like a thick, tangled web down her short, muscular neck, hide slightly rugged even if she was in her summer pelt. The gold on her rump and shoulders caught a stray sun-ray every now and then, but otherwise, the warrioress tried to remain in the shadows. She was comfortable there, and even though the Basin was not so plagued by the summer heat, it could still get too hot for the shaggy wildling if she stayed out there for too long. The barbarian stopped in her tracks as her auburn gaze caught sight of a familiar figure in the terrain. The Doctor, d'Artagnan, whom she had always respected. He seemed distressed somehow - Korra did not know much about expressing emotions, but she could read body-language just fine. She wondered what might be on his busy mind, but only half-heartedly. Korra did not find much entertainment in analyzing things, she would rather just cut to the chase. The Doctor had been part of this herd even longer than the little garron herself. The circumstances under which they arrived were similar - both rogues with difficult pasts given new purpose under Mauja's rule. Now though, it seemed Mauja might not return, and the herd consisted mostly of members Korra had never bothered to learn the names of. The few old members that remained triggered the nostalgia in her broad chest and made her cringe at herself. Like some elderly woman she was standing there, reminiscing about the good old days. It was embarrassing and provoked a harsh snort, trying to redeem herself somewhat. She was perfectly content with where she was; Korra was not a creature of ambition and she did not strive for anything. Besides from victory for the superior race, that is. Brown gaze fell now upon the Engineer, Ulrik, who had also been in the herd in those old days. She had never spoken many words with him, but come to think of it, when had Korra ever spoken many words to anyone? The sword and shield watched as the two stallions communicated, not within earshot to make out any conversation and not really caring for their words. Yet there was something about the situation, an urgency, meaning that she could not just up and go like she usually would. Had it been anyone but the Doctor, she might just have left then and there, but she had come to respect him over time, and so I guess she came as close to caring about him as Korra ever could. Now, a young mare joined them. Korra recognized her as the offspring of the Doctor and his Nurse. She could not help but chuckle hoarsely, realizing that the little babe she had seen suckling by her mother's teats was now in fact a soldier, just like the garron herself. If anything, that surely did make her feel ancient, but she could teach the whelp a thing or two any day. Not far from her, a disturbance in the foliage of the underbrush caught her attention. The large, glooming shadow of Deimos appeared and moved towards the small gathering that she was currently studying, and she was slightly alarmed as always when being close to the grey beast. He was like her in many ways, but when he had recently become a leader of the Basin, she was reminded just how different they really were. Korra could never, would never, want to lead anyone. Her antisocial nature forbade her to commit to the wellbeing of others the way a chief did, and so she felt just fine assuming the role of soldier, serving the greater good. The garron closed in on the flock, reaching earshot just when a child's voice rang clear through the air. Stunted lobes turned in the direction of the sound, thick forelock falling into her eyes as crania was turned as well, a petite filly coming into view. Korra was probably more startled than she should have been, to see the girl call Deimos her 'papa', causing her to halt in her tracks. Why was she so shocked by this discovery? You need to understand that Deimos is probably the one being in the universe who is more reclusive than Korra. And here he was, a father. This meant that the issue of reproduction had moved not just a couple of steps closer to the little garron; and at her age, if she was going to ever have offspring, she'd have to do something about it soon, they would say. It frightened her not so much what she might decide to herself, but what others would expect, the questions they might ask, the suggestive glances tossed in her direction. "See? If he can do it...", they would say. Yet what frightened her the most was that someone had actually been able to love Death himself - and that someone might just be able to love her, as well. For a moment, she considered not dealing with it, finding another place to absorb this new aspect of reality, to brood in silence. But she could already be seen by the others, so she put on a stern facade and closed in, nodding in greeting to them as she took up a position slightly removed from them. She was there, but she did not really participate, did not commit herself to their socializing and kept open her option of a quick getaway, should everything get too crowded. |
