BELLONA

It is agony to be pressing her burnt body into the scales of the beast, and a quick gaze downwards reveals that her pain is for naught. Orange pools grow wide at the sight of the crushed egg, and the airborne vixen abandons her post as self-appointed leader to something far more volatile. "What in quatzalcoatl's name have you done?" The use of her tongue encourages more pain to strike it, and the speaker soon learns that it is best to keep quiet.

Gingerly drawing her wings against her tender sides, the weary bird falls out of the sky and onto the sand, absorbing the impact with her rump. It isn't such a long drop from the mother's shoulder, and the exhausted peahen lacks the energy to catch herself with her wings. Her striped ass appears to work as a rather soft cushion anyway.

Blazing eyes bear down on the two who have hacked away at the lizard's egg sack. Every part of her approaching body gives some sign of her anger, and the maiden feels it unnecessary to quell her rage. Blue harks slam backwards, a jeweled crown cranes skywards, and lurching pillars dash forwards. It is her intention to cause harm to the two idiots who killed the prize she has worked so hard for, but her lust for their blood is terminated with the bone's harsh words. The bird's metallic stare snaps onto its sun-bleached form, redirecting her anger towards something more deserving of it.

You are the one who ordered us to kill it. YOU are the one who brought us to action. A tight lip is drawn into a frown as she berates the snide thing, releasing some of the emotion that has built up inside her even though it cannot hear a thing. Do not ask for something that you do not desire, tlacatecolotl.

As the colored warrior struggles for more harsh words to offer the bone, movement from beneath the fallen beast catches her eye. Where the body of the child lays in the sand, bits of shell and layers of mucous are working to rebuild its cradle. Memories of a grey-backed God turning back time enter the watchful woman's mind. Can it be the same deity who is reclaiming the life that they have stolen?

An answer to her question comes in the form of the newly-whole egg rolling towards her. Without so much as a glance to the others, the Chieftess claims it as her own. An iridescent wing reaches for the precious item and cups it in the region between blue and pink feathers. She flashes a smile at the child's porcelain shield, a gesture both hopeful and grim as she puzzles over what is carried inside it.

The macabre tool's comment draws her away from her thoughts, and the lonely Aztec turns away from the crowd to make her way home. Just as the weight of the mother's murder rides heavily on their shoulders, the possibility of this child's death rides on hers.


{Bellona is out. Thanks for hosting this!

tlacatecolotl -- "possessed one."}


"Talking"