+- Wolf RPG (https://wolf-rpg.com)
+-- Forum: In Character: Roleplaying (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=5)
+--- Forum: Archives (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11)
+--- Thread: Sleepy Fox Hollow where the sun comes through (/showthread.php?tid=38034)
where the sun comes through - Maegi - December 13, 2019
Tonight, she prayed for Sakhmet.
It was cloudy, but no longer snowing. The fresh white blanket surrounded her; she had found a place beneath a couple of fallen timbers that was relatively warm and dry. Still, her breath fogged, and she shivered — but from grief, more likely, than the cold she barely felt.
My lord, my god,she whispered in Daedric.
Watch over my daughter. Keep her safe from harm. Children are dearest to you, and those who would hurt them are destined to suffer.
Maegi knew she should be out looking for Sakhmet. She should never rest until the girl was found. But part of her wondered. . .was she lost, or just gone? Had Sakhmet left of her own volition, tired of a mother who had failed to keep not one but two of her brothers alive?
This potential abandonment cut deeper than the rest, for while Maegi could bear her shortcomings as a leader, she could never forgive herself for letting her children down. For being an unfit mother.
Maybe it was best to not know the depths of Sakhmet's disappointment. Best not to explore the bounds of her own self-hatred.
Hear me, o Jaes,she called out, a little louder, now. Her voice rose into the icy air like the echo of a distant cry, muted with time and space.
For I am your most fervent disciple.
Zealotry was all she had.
RE: where the sun comes through - Ego - December 18, 2019
hear me, o jaes,
he heard, but did not understand, coming closer to a brace of collapsed logs and sniffing in the dark, trying to identify the makeshift shrine's occupant.
was she talking to... him?
he paused, ears pressed forward eagerly, and listened quietly -- raptly -- for more of the fervent prayer, if he had not already been discovered looming. for ego had slunk over diaspora's well-signed borders some time ago, and the loner hadn't bothered to announce his return; too weak-kneed to ever dare call out for the family he'd fled in misguided cowardice.
what if they hated him? what if he hadn't been thought of? what if they didn't remember who he was -- he could barely remember on his own, so...
what if, what if, what if.
he had trespassed to find out. to spy before making himself known. but he had gotten distracted by a voice -- he was entranced with it now -- and the boy took a step in the snow, moving unwittingly closer.
RE: where the sun comes through - Maegi - December 19, 2019
During a pause in her prayer, a sound caught her ear—the unmistakable press of paw into snow. A tiny crunch. She rose, standing alert, ears cupped forward. (Why should she be so wary? She was. . .home, after all.)
Who's there?she inquired, voice still ringing with the solemnity of ritual.
Maegi left the shelter of the fallen trees and padded out into the open, bicolored eyes flickering. A little snow had begun to fall and settled upon her ivory pelt, frosting the tips of her ears. Her brow furrowed in puzzlement. Who here would not make their presence known?
I know someone's around,she softly called out, breath fogging in the night.