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11-07-2015, 01:55 PM
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Isopia
things that don't make sense are always a little deceiving Turning her deep golden gaze away from the sea and her looming responsibility at the sound of Volterra's thunderous and rhythmic approach, the earthen-girl too silently noted the odd duplication of their first meeting. Isopia, a staunch determinist, did not believe in coincidences. That didn't imply that she thought all serendipitous events had meaning, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something about this did. But that meaning was not necessarily good. If she hadn't been present for Verzes' hatching, she likely wouldn't have met Volterra. Or at least if she had, it would have been under drastically different circumstances. Had their first meeting occurred as the wild fire broke out, she likely wouldn't have relied on him as much - wouldn't have called out to him in the first place. She wouldn't have beat to his exhausted body, and wouldn't have paid him any attention on their third (or second?) meeting. He would have never helped her build her hottub and would have never experienced the feelings that his presence - and his presence alone - ignited in her. Blinking as he slowed to a halt beside her, she imagined him a stranger. What would it be like if this was the first time he had met her? Would forces have brought them together after this day, such that all of the important components of their whatever-ship this was? (friendship? more? less? what were they?) His words snapped her mind out of this counter-factual consideration, and she nodded in agreement. Iso's gaze caught the swift movements of the blood-red dragon as he dropped the fish near the gently rolling egg before departing. A small and quiet smile parted her dark lips, and she looked to where the draconian creature had fled, wanting to express her gratitude. But he was gone. Was he leaving them alone again, as he had when they worked on the hot tub? A flare of white-cold panic yawned inside of her. Her emotions pertaining to the It didn't even occur to her to think of the ramifications of the dragon bringing her this fish. If anything, he was helping out one of his own, rather than helping her. The voice of jealousy could apparently sound completely rational, within her own brain. Are you...excited? Torn between whatever semblance of friendship she thought lingered between the two, which would have allowed her to be honest, and the icy wall of jealousy she had unintentionally built up, the girl was torn as to how to respond. She felt nothing. Nothing, just like always (except for that red-hot pulsating ache she felt around Volterra...). Others were excited about companions, and surely many would kill for a gift from a God such as the one she had been given. Perhaps it was because so much of Isopia's life had been filled with opportunities rarely afforded to others, in tandem with her distant and academic view of the world, but such situations meant very little to her. On the other hand, in light of all that, she knew that she should likely say yes, so as not to disrespect the gift, or appear entitled. "I-" Yes or no? Honest, or distant? Friends or --- And then her soon-to-be companion began what would be a happy tradition for the two. It saved her. In this case, it saved her from having to answer a question that Iso felt had deep implications. And it did this, by hatching. A small crack appeared in the pristine green-bronze shell. No longer were the delicate swirls and blobs that covered the shell unmarred. The perfection had been shattered. A claw appeared, delicately trying to poke through the crack, as if wanting to preserve as much of the shell as possible. Then the claw disappeared, and for a moment, nothing happened. Inside, the creature, young as it was, was deliberating about what to do; how to best escape its faux-home. After a pause, its tail pressed through, as if sawing open the crack. The shell split neatly into two pieces, revealing, as Verzes new it would, a small dragon. The first thing it saw was Iso's death-marked muzzle. Although the mare had no maternal instincts whatsoever, she felt compelled to keep herself close, and even breath a few warm puffs of air onto the tiny creature. The dragon itself was a dusty bronze - its back and wings were the most vibrant, with its belly and limbs fading to an almost dirt-colour. A green almost leafy-pattern wove up the creature's face, bleeding away into greenish scales on its neck. Puzzling flashes of her own face blossomed into Iso's mind, and for the first time in her life she came dangerously close to actually feeling the wide array of emotions that most knew of intimately; and it was all coming from the dragon. Wonder, startlement, amazement, curiosity - The creature somehow knew who she was, without knowing anything at all about her. With small taloned limbs, it gripped her nostrils gently and blew back into her face, mirroring her own movements. And then, without hesitation or apology, spun and promptly began devouring the fish that Verzes had left for it. Gratitude bloomed in Iso's mind, but from her as well as her companion, for the red dragon's gift. Welcome to my novel. Summary: Iso panics and is still jealous, then the dragon hatches. :P |
