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03-28-2015, 01:01 PM
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*”I thought… I thought your hair was like bug antennae."* My eyes flew everywhere; from the skies, to the glacier, to Headwings, to the snow on the ground, to I don’t even know, trying their damnest to figure out where the fuck that came from. Like…bug antennae?. You’re shittin’ me, right? And even though there were plenty of people out there who thought the exact same shit when they first saw me (I mean, fuck, Leos thought the same shit when we first met) none of them had ever really said it out loud, so I was completely blindsided by the comparison and maybe at one point I would’ve laughed at it but I was already pissed at myself for cussing in front of a kid and at the kid for being annoying and I was opening my mouth to light her ass on fire-- --but Headwings beat me to it. I was caught off guard by the sudden wave of discipline that shot from Headwings’ mouth. I snapped my eyes to her, my body jerking away from her space, as though it were gonna get burned by the hot fiya she was spittin’ like a dragon. For the first time since the aurora and the gleam of metal hidden in the ice, my mind was ripped out of this weird obsession that I had with the thing I had found. I was….blindsided by the cool ferocity of her words, her words defending me, like I hadn’t also been sick of her ass this entire time too. *"I am not your mother, but this lady deserves an apology, for she has probably unknowingly granted you your most exciting afternoon yet; way better than chasing butterflies, now isn't it?"* And now I actually felt bad for the things my eyes had said to her earlier. I mean…I dunno, I’ve never been called a lady before and it felt weird and kind of gross and I hoped she wouldn’t do it again but the sentiment behind it was… it was kinda touching, okay? And the part about being older and wiser…I mean, the idea behind it was kinda sweet but there ain’t nothing wise about my dumbass or anything. I uh…I didn’t know how to handle it. I sorta just deflated a little bit, still pissed but now uncertain of my pissed’ness, because now I was starting to feel bad about a whole bunch of things now, from the cussin’ to the easy irritation I had with someone who found my company valuable. “I mean,” I said weakly, my eyes sort of cast to the side, “I ain’t no lady but uh…” It felt weak, especially set next to the vibrant passion that Headwings displayed just now. A tiny growl rumbled and my eyes locked onto the little fluffy thing that toddled along with the filly, and in all honesty I couldn’t really get angry at the fox’s fury; I mean, I get pissed when I get reamed like that, too. “I wouldn’t do it,” I said quietly, my eyebrows raised. Because growls are threats and even though I didn’t expect them to try anything, as meek and small as they were—well. Let’s be real here. Headwings scared me a little bit. (But she also made me feel a little--) Headwings brought the conversation back to the thing (oh right, the thing, it exists) with all the poise and control that an actual lady possesses and it didn’t really stop my slight intimidation of her composure. It didn’t help that I didn’t know her real name (I had a bad habit of choosing awful names for people who turned out to be not-that-awful), and it also didn’t help that uh— --she was asking a question I hadn’t really considered. “I uh…” I said, dumbfounded, because all my energy had been in finding the shit, but I hadn’t even wondered what I’d do with it. “Um….” I mean, what even was it? They were both talking about shit that I had never seen before and had no use for, because fighting for me was always for hooves and bodies and asses and I’ve never heard of someone using a thing to battle. Besides—it was pretty beat up, like it was still beautiful to me but even I could see it needed some elbow-grease to restore it to whatever greatness it had possessed. “…I mean, I dunno,” I finally said, shrugging my shoulders. I peered down at the shards of intently, seeing how old it seemed to be, something ancient, an antique. “I’ll…I’ll ask someone about it,” I finally murmured, almost to myself—as though the answer were poised on my lips, ready to leap as soon as the question was asked. I’ll ask someone about it. Someone who might be able to remember this…thing. Someone who wouldn’t be perturbed by how old this thing might be, who wouldn’t be bothered by whatever decades, centuries, millennia packed into the rusted metal of this thing. Someone who wasn’t bothered by time, because time was a thing that they were. Oh shit.. @[Maren] @[Tempe] |
