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+--- Thread: Snowforest Taiga what's left of our eden's garden to grow? (/showthread.php?tid=43138)
what's left of our eden's garden to grow? - Phaedra - August 06, 2020
they had left her home, and for the moment her mind was immersed with petty sorrow that her fey garden was lost to her forever. the time that the journey took was long and the way of it long, but presently, the day was done. the birds sung no longer and darkness wrapped the earth with the coverlet of sleep, although phaedra was troubled with restlessness and insomnia.
despite a languor of her legs, scabrous pads and a calloused mind, even the listlessness that described her after such tedious travel, she still tossed and turned sleeplessly. with an aggravated huff, the belle rose wobbily to her feet and padded quietly through sleeping bodies, plying a searching glance for her mother with a wistful exhale.
unlike the other pups, phaedra had insisted upon sleeping alone, and her conscience stirred briefly as she saw her all alone.
nonetheless, she needed somewhere private to process all the changes taking place. she shook out her wet ruff and thought she noted an ambrosian scent on the wind in the greensward beyond the berm where they rested.
caintigern always lurked closeby, but with the pack so congested, he dared not approach phaedra during thei journey and made an agitated chitter upon blearily peering down from his shuteye in a nearby tree to find her departing from the group. the marten dithered left and right on his branch, but there was no path for him to phaedra, and he stood with alarum as he watched her leave. "use your common sense, phaedra, don't be a fool," he whispered in an exasperated breath.
the swarth was more like a swale now, transformed by the cloudburst in less than the half-day they had spent in the vicinity. the rain came down hard, pelting her relentlessly, stinging her eyes and soaking through to her bones. the grass bowed in the standing water.
lost in her pensive sadness, phaedra pressed onwards through the teeming lowveld, finding to her surprise that the runoff rose all the way to her knees. her heart gave a squeeze, needlesly reminding her of that tattooed memory.
even with that on her mind, through the rain she could see the colorful crowns of rockcress in the distance, limning the slopes and swaying 'neath the torrential downpour. she yearned to smell home in their bed.
it seemed to take forever, and once she reached them her tired forelegs folded beneath her. phaedra nuzzled the rouge flowers, inhaling their scent, and felt her face unconsciously crumple into the plaintive expression of deep grief.
RE: what's left of our eden's garden to grow? - Ciri - August 06, 2020
When first she took note of the pale girl's departure, Ciri followed only with a single blue-yellow eye. Curled close to her sister, nose buried among the peppered golden fur of her shoulders, she felt curiosity begin to bloom. Where was she going? Off into the downpour she trailed, out of sight from the pack's resting place, and away toward an unknown darkness.
She knew her mother would never approve of disobedience, especially in this foreign place, but she had to know. The little bkackbird stared in Nyx' direction for a long moment, eager to be sure that her departure would not be prevented.
Something about that sad, lonely girl called out to her. Innocent of all the bitterness toward her very existence, Ciri unfurled herself from alongside her littermate to lope carelessly after her sodden steps.
The rain seeped with ease into her baby pelt, soaking through to her skin, but she didn't care. She padded through the drooping grasses with an excited swing to her sodden tail, which quickened as she at last caught sight of Phaedra among the crimson wildflowers. With a joyful little rumble, the darkest Ostrega moved swiftly forward to close the distance.
"Hi," she halted some feet behind the other cub, little frame practically vibrating - both from her anticipation of making a new friend, and the biting cold of her sodden hide. "Ich mag deine Blumen."
RE: what's left of our eden's garden to grow? - Phaedra - August 07, 2020
despite the bucketing rain, the ambrosial smell of the flowers reminded her of home and made her lids heavy, lashes flittery with the courting of sleep—
a small voice, "hi," snatched the invitation from behind her eyes but phaedra stirred listlessly in the incarnadine flower bed, gentling her cheek against their petals with a smile. she indulged in reminiscences about stag bringing her dandelions in exchange for new secret words; how many had he learned by now? her mind somnolently mused on—
"ich mag deine blumen," the voice remarked and it was then that phaedra realized the first greeting had not been a hypnagogic murmur. she plucked her head up, turning to squint at the darkened form looming alongside her.
her brain was a sieve from lack of sleep, so it just interpreted her father's tongue as its common translation.
"huhm? hi? wha ... flowers?" she said in a muzzy voice, then suddenly recalled where she was. "uhhhhh, urrhhhh," slight panic that this small child had followed her into a field swallowed by water escalated to full panic, her eyes glanced searchingly for the mother of this kid who was shaking like an old woman's hands on her fifth cup of coffee.
after a fashion, the pale prinzessin beared against her elbows and leaned in towards ciri, "whereds your ma?" phaedra said anxiously, lifting her eyes and casting her muzzle towards the wooded berm where the rest of the group had bedded down for the night. "you go find your ma, kay?"
RE: what's left of our eden's garden to grow? - Ciri - August 10, 2020
This is short, I'm sorry! ;_;
Ciri, unphased by the pale juvenile's garbled response to her arrival, remained rooted to the spot. She watched, shivering uncontrollably, eyes wide with wonder as to who this young stranger was, and wiggled her scruffy wet tail with ever-growing excitement.
"I'm Ciri," she chirped, completely disregarding her newest companion's instruction to go and locate her mother. The littlest Ostrega's teeth chattered, but still she beamed with an ear-to-ear grin to rival that of a Cheshire cat. "Who're you? Freundin? Friend?"
RE: what's left of our eden's garden to grow? - Phaedra - August 13, 2020
no apology necessary, short posts are superior
after trying to shoo the younger girlchild back to her parents, phaedra lay her head back amongst the velour blossoms, closing her eyes for a moment and luring in the shy visitation of sleep upon her bone-weary body.
a heartbeat later, phaedra sensed her little parcel delivery had not returned to sender like she requested, and just as that consciousness intruded on her mind, again the small voice bade her acknowledgment: "i'm ciri," nearest somnolent lid uncorked, brow practicing its mimesis of the dark, ragged clouds above.
the lamb raised her head again, petals of ballet-slipper pink clinging to her rain-mussed cheek. she lipped at a bloom sticking to her black gums, finally blustering it away with a huff.
phaedra turned and faced ciri—in the midst of chattering (literally and figuratively)—and said very sternly: "hey, you ever hear of d'... " she hesitated, willing lethargic synapses to engage with her silvertongue, "d' black onthat?" she whispered the name like it was non licet, taboo, and glanced about vigilantly before continuing, "id only comes oud at dark during sdorms, exactly like dis one, and theys got deeth the size of your leg," she whisper-shouted with wide eyes, then a sigh of relief washed her. "they only ead little dark color girls, though, 'cause they make id even blacker n bigger. that's why i'm prodected n' you an't." she straightened her neck and shot a glance where the adults kept on through the rain.
"buhhhhhht! black onthat is so much afraid of grown-ups, and an't go near 'em. you needa go afore id sees you from the sadows," phaedra imparted a coaxing gesture through the air, directing her back towards the dryness of the trees colonized by their pack.
so sleep deprived, her brain disconnected from the part of itself responsible for checking her emotions, and the girl's throat burned with the yearning to sob from exhaustion. "names a'fore d'morrows and sunups, moontimes is for sleeps," she informed her with exasperation, "only sleeps."
RE: what's left of our eden's garden to grow? - Ciri - August 17, 2020
No introduction came, nor any acknowledgement of the one she'd offered. Ciri felt herself wilt a little, having been so eager for connection with this youngster from beyond her immediate circle only to be faced with clear rejection. She'd always been such a resilient child, one who would shrug off her sister's frustration whenever she didn't want to engage with her, but something about the dismissal of another who was supposed to be of her pack didn't sit right with her.
Her smile faltered and her raven lobes canted backward a little to communicate her confusion, but she remained rooted to the spot. Did this mean they were not friends? This thought was swept away, however, when the dove turned to face her and piped up with talk of a mysterious, lurking beast. Ciri, suddenly enraptured by the suggestion of storytelling, lowered her sodden haunches to the ground in excited anticipation.
Blue-yellow eyes widened, her expression shifted to one of quiet intrigue. "The black onthat," she drawled, tone hushed, and her gaze was cast downward to look upon her trembling forelimbs to imagine how big this shadow demon's fangs could be. At once, the little Ostrega's mind conjured a wolf-like beast, much bigger than Papa with midnight furs and a glowing crimson stare. It wore a permanent, hateful grin; Ciri's mismatched eyes swept the immediate area for any sign of its approach, and she released a shaky breath to see nothing but wilted flowers and the trees from which she'd wandered.
Apparently, this creature only fed on dark-coloured babes. She bore a sable pelage, but she wasn't some little kid! Ciri blinked back toward Phaedra as she encouraged her away again, and her brow furrowed thoughtfully. "I'm nod scared!" Ciri announced between chattering teeth, despite the flip-flop of anxiety in her belly that this beast was waiting somewhere. "If-if he comes, he can fuck off after I bide 'im!"
Nope. Sorry, Phaedra. You'll have to try harder!
RE: what's left of our eden's garden to grow? - Phaedra - August 18, 2020
she was not well versed in dealing with nuisance children, and her attempt at scaring the girl off with tales of a fabricated boogeyman was actually counterproductive to her wants. the child appeared to have believed her every word, acting restless, but it wasn't enough to glean her the solitude she desperately sought.
phaedra blinked lethargically, nodding off before startling into consciousness again many times over. meanwhile, ciri was fumbling with her words (she felt a little mocked, but she was too sleepyheaded to register it), mouthing off about her clout, when—
"... fuck off ..."
when eavesdropping on her parents fight, that four-letter word had been used in a scathing manner. whilst phaedra had more foul invectives in her vernacular than what was probably appropriate for a child, she knew that the f-word was an ineffable one condemned from her tongue.
phaedra puckered her lips thoughtfully and glanced, lids half-staff, down at the girl from her cathedra of flowers. voice muzzy with listlessness, she abruptly exclaimed (after ciri had finished her failsafe measures for dealing with the black onthat),
"hey, can you fuck off?"
it dropped from her mouth like a guillotine's blade, sharp and heavy and gruesome.
RE: what's left of our eden's garden to grow? - Ciri - August 18, 2020
She grinned, made confident by her own claim that she was capable of shooing the demon away. The black onthat wouldn't stand a chance against her, the lion cub of Sagtannet, and especially would not hesitate to get the hell out of dodge as soon as her mama and papa unearthed his intentions. Phaedra would defend her too, surely - wasn't that the purpose of one's pack? To look out for one another? Ciri, blind to her mother's conflict with Sagtannet's Alphess and disconnection, had not considered that hers might repel her very existence among them.
"Hey, can you fuck off?"
Oh. Ouch.
Ciri, surprised by the venom with which the pearl spoke, was rendered speechless. She blinked up into Phaedra's pale features, confused and hurt by the sharpness of her suggestion, and pressed her sodden lobes back against her head. "But-" she wanted to bite back with words, argue that she was nothing but a big meanie, but her skyrocketing anxiety and the bitter cold caused her teeth to clack shut. She gritted them together, willing herself not to sob over this harsh, cruel rejection, but tears pricked the corners of her wide eyes all the same. "Why?"
RE: what's left of our eden's garden to grow? - Phaedra - August 19, 2020
phaedra's mind wasn't presently anchored to complete consciousness, and even when it was, she didn't know this girl! the child's mother had never introduced her to the pack as far as the mondstein could recall, and besides that, she'd never seen the mother antecedent to their departure from the spire's stronghold, either.
the pack (her parents and stag, really) had helped bring her up not because she was sagtannet's only remaining heir apparent, but because her presence was impressed upon them and she implicated herself in their daily affairs. they had no choice, really. biological imperative did the rest.
as for the grulla cub and her sister, phaedra'd never laid eyes on them before, not until the entire pack had mustered station and several unfamiliar faces turned out.
ciri's parents' decision to remain frugal with their public appearances (hence their failure to coalesce into the pack) was not the girl's fault. it was unsurprising that she would be vulnerable to cobwebby heartstrings when her upbringing thus far was of a wilfully hermetic nature. who could blame her for her social gaucherie?
it didnt matter, phaedra was bitter. bitter about leaving home, bitter about thade, and now she had only wanted one thing: to sleep after days of deprivation—she'd argue back that ciri was the meanie for stirring her from the sweet taste of it—and now this kid was tinselly-eyed and lachrymose over her grown-up words.
phaedra groaned and flopped on her side. she'd warned her to go back to her mother (very nicely, she thought), ciri refused; what else was she meant to do but lash out from her depth of misery like baby potty mouth cthulhu? she just wanted to sleep! not play, not socialize. sleep.
if getting that need met entailed rejecting ciri's desperation for friendship, very well then. phaedra cozied up to the flowers and muttered, "because i'm sleepy and you're 'noying me. dats why."
RE: what's left of our eden's garden to grow? - Ciri - September 21, 2020
Sorry for the wait here, dunno if you want to add another post or if you'd rather I'd archive? <3
She was sleepy. Why not just say so to begin with, instead of conjuring some bullshit tale about a beast in the shadows to frighten children? The little raveness continued to stand her ground, stubborn and confused and hurt above all else, eager to argue but not sure what to say. So she remained for another long, tense moment before there came a frustrated lash of her scruffy tail.
"Fine," she muttered, and turned away. Leave this rotten girl to slumber alone, out in the open, and hope that the rains came harder. Ciri slunk off in the direction she'd come from with her ears splayed backward in agitated defeat, eager suddenly to fit herself into her mother's embrace where she was sure to be welcome.
RE: what's left of our eden's garden to grow? - Phaedra - September 21, 2020
archiving, ty for joining!
phaedra wouldn't have thought to come out of the gate with i'm sleepy go away at the outset because she was, well, sleepy, and she'd tried politesse which hadn't worked at all. being a grumpkin and weaving tales to spook away littlers was more effective for permanent solitude besides. only except that backfired and made ciri more forthcoming which led to little phaedra peach moldering into something wormy and unpalatable as the moments ticked on.
"fine," she heard with the mulish leer of a pinna, and pursuant the squelch of paws as they moused away through the swale. she breathed a sigh and was almost immediately transported into a deep, dreamless sleep. heavier rain or no, the pearl amongst the petals slept through it without complaint.
unfortunately for sagtannet's get (or not, she was rather the poxy whelp at the moment, but in all fairness handling stress was demonstrably not her province and she was piled under it), phaedra was more than willing to play with just about any pup other than them. ever since her mother's disclosure about her father having other children to cosset, she'd felt replaced, and she clutched bitterness in her fist like a hankerchief for that.
not knowing who to blame for lost time with her papa made her wary of them all and not the least bit interested in socializing. particularly when she was exhausted from a long, dreary trip.
she woke up at sunrise with a vague memory of the night before, recalling now some snippets of her and papa's secret language, but took it for one of her vivid dreams and gathered an armful of flowers into her chest, smelling deeply of them to remind herself of home.