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06-07-2017, 12:57 PM
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otem
You'll remember me when the west wind moves upon the fields of barley You can tell the sun in his jealous sky when we walked in fields of gold Caught between the need to prove herself to be clever and the logic of her mother's words, Otem could do little else other than allow her lower lip to pucker as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. Dammit, she thought, exhaling and staring with a childish bitterness into Isopia's eyes. Her mother was right (of course), and Otem was quickly learning how much she hated being wrong. Exhaling loudly and dramatically, Otem popped her lip back into her mouth and shrugged. "Fine. Great. I'll just wait then." The words tumbled out of her mouth before she had a chance to think about them, and as their sounds hit her ears the girl realized just how childish and petulant they sounded. "Why are you out here anyways?" Otem asked, trying to change the subject and erase her mini-tantrum from the conversation. The ram-horned child looked out over Isopia's shoulder to where the waves were lapping against the shore. She felt a sense of magnitude and of calm wash over her, but those didn't seem like the sorts of things that would normally appeal to her mother. |
