Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
| Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT |
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Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit
Bunnie |
10-25-2016, 08:46 AM
(This post was last modified: 10-25-2016, 08:51 AM by Rikyn.)
sweet bitter words, unlike nothing I have heard:
I listen to her in silence, my thoughts not very nice.
Grief wasn’t as selfish as this prattling, bemoaning of a lost parent, so long dead she was apparently unlikely to be found again; how much could she really care about her mother if she’d not noticed she was dead for this long? How could she manage to make the sacrifice of a mother for her child so much about her? It was despicable, in only the way things that make me think about my own awful behavior can be.
Did she not know how badly some people wanted that kind of love? How precious it was, to be unconditionally cared for? I’d followed my mother within hours of her abandoning me and her mountain, and this little bitch hadn’t even bothered to notice her mother was dead until now! Dead, and for her! The one who now went to collect dust, and call them bones!
The clichéd “void inside me” breaks my heavy thoughts, my golden eyes rolling dramatically at her girlish tears and sentiments. I snort, already preparing to leave her to her tears and southward trail of self pity without her equally self indulgent farewell, as I have little interest in telling a moron that she’s, well, a moron. Duir slowly moves to follow me, his gaze lingering on her with a compassionate need to continue to console her, but he is also wary of being left alone.
"Maybe that guilt you feel isn’t because she followed you," I say coldly, with the same faintly irritated, general lack-of-fucks-given tone I've taken on most of this conversation with, "but because you didn’t bother to look for her until now.
"Either way, she’s dead," just like my mother might as well be, wherever was more important to her than the life she already had, "and, ultimately, she’d have died, with or without your help. At least it was meaningful. Maybe you should think about that, instead of just how much it hurts you."
Proceeding to walk away, I glance down at Duir (in a horrible, impish way), my voice projected loud enough for her to hear.
"Might have been, anyway," I continue, sauntering across the red desert, back north to the verdant realms, "is a sacrifice meaningful if no one notices?"
[ OOC: I'm sorry Erthe. D: He's a horrible wretched man-baby of a hypocrite. ;_; ]
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sing along, mockingbird; you don't affect me.
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