Chimera Fields Woo Woo!

More often than not the young temptress was in close proximity to her mother, following and waiting, watching and learning. Of the children her mother and aunt bore, she was the first, paving paths for herself that the others would never set foot on. She thought rather highly of herself, yes, but her views did not stem from anything other than the facts surrounding her birth. Where the eldest of the sisters had failed time and time again to bring forth new blood into this dismal world, it was Sitala that had succeeded—it was her mother unto whom the gift of childbirth was bestowed, and she the first of few in a great while. And oh, how that filled her with such a pleasant sensation.

Dreams of herself woke the woman up early into the evening, the images faded and voices lost, whilst the feeling created was left behind. Sanuye immediately sought out her mother, desperate to be in her presence for lack of better company—but the only woman readily available was Namid, whose existence alone set the younger female off. It was with raised hackles and a complete abandonment of their sisterhood that she taunted the eldest of their group, reminding her of what she could not do, whilst her own youth and assumed fertility was flaunted. Sadly, she could continue her cruel antics for only a short amount of time before she was chased away by the elder and her shadow, Eyota. Little resistance was given out of fear—fear that her mother would be blamed for her actions, or that restrictions would be put in place to keep her from enjoying this new world they’ve discovered. Before a single, true warning could be issued, the alabaster femme fatale was in the wind, distancing herself from the women of the old.

It was whilst her legs had since grown weary and she need pace herself that she stumbled upon the sepia-clad girl, who was recognised immediately as Tokala. For a fleeting second, she stared at her through narrowed eyes, transferring the frustrations felt towards her mother and their aunt onto the innocent—but she was not to blame for the actions of the previous generation, despite having once thrived within one of their wombs. With a gradually softening gaze, she approached the woman, crossing through her peripheral to ensure that her identity was not mistaken for another. “Tokala,” she greeted, voice low though the tone was gentle. “Explain to me why you have chosen this wasteland to spend your evening in?” The conditions of the land surrounding them were not unnoticed, only intentionally ignored. It took nothing greater than a glance or two to see the ruin of the earth, torn apart, with its wear that showed through even the highest mounds of snow. There was no saving grace to be found, not a single beauty—besides herself, of course—within miles that would convince her it was a territory worthy of staying in; she couldn’t understand why they were here and not somewhere that might challenge an appearance such as her own.