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04-20-2015, 12:44 AM
There were too many new faces at the meeting.
She had been back for too short a time to have met many of them, and most of the others she recognized only by face. Despite Astraeus' reassurances, she found herself shrinking back and away from the front, where she no longer belonged, despite the fact that their Sultan was her mate. -Calm down,- pleaded the zephyr, preening her mane helplessly from his perch on her withers. He fought to control his own emotions as they fed off of hers, trying to prevent the sparking of his feathers that would bring unwanted attention to his bonded.
I don't belong here anymore, she thought to him, panic building in a lump in her throat. Not really. Gaucho doesn't need me. The Throat doesn't need me. I'm of no use to them. Astraeus, at a loss for what to say in response, merely continued his preening, running his beak through the silken strands of silver lying along her nape. She wanted to run. She wanted to hide.
Most of all, she wanted to be wanted.
She listened as names were called, titles rattled off, and she realized that her contributions to the Dragon's Throat had been nothing and left no mark. Where was her legacy? Her wall was buried under the sea somewhere and her leadership was a murmur on the wind. Most of those present wouldn't even notice her, and if they did, they certainly wouldn't remember. Suddenly, the angel felt very, very small.
"Talk talk talk."
-Astraeus.-
you give up your soul till you break down;
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