January 13, 2018, 08:38 PM
What had she been, to Vaati? He had been so much to her; her captor, but also her first and trusted friend. He'd taken from her whatever might have been hers in Moonspear, dragged her into the place their own healer had called hell, taken her life from her. And yet had he not protected her? Confided in her as she did him, sought her safety and made her something akin to her queen? And had that not led to her tumble; into the dark and shapeless place she'd existed in for so many weeks? She remembered still the burn of the river, the rush of emotion, but also the pain and the numb. And Screech, too, had been lost to her. She'd found his scent, found where he and Vaati had fallen byways of the Cerberus, wondered at the power of a being that could tear apart the two most important people in her shallow life.
They both lived, she knew, and yet somewhere far away from where she lay now, the snow already working to cover the blemish on the otherwise whitewashed mountainside. It was her own fault, her own blasted fault, for staining the serene place with her presence and her torn up trail, the spots of blood that littered it like holes in the perfection of the winter. And yet faults were always smoothed out by the great force that shaped the Wilds, and perhaps it would scuff her out too.
The greeting of another had her fall still; not even in the height of her failure could she fade from the world soundlessly. For a long while, she dared not shift, but it were the words that followed that had the dying ember within the shadow spark, and she lifted carefully her muzzle and turned to view the imposter. you are not alone. But she was, surely? No other could have fallen as she had, to this dark and dirty place. The words had her a tinge of comfort, however; and it was after a moment of painfully slow thought that she understood. It was not the word themselves that had the shadow's gaze rake the woman as it did, but the voice that uttered them.
And then she understood. "mother," The word was a breath of wind, nearly hidden among the gusts below. It was relieved and shocked, and too ashamed and quilty, scared and with the wondering innocence, she'd forsaken long ago. She'd wondered once if death would come by the river, and now she wondered it again. How cruel of the world, to die in the face of the thing that shamed and spoke loudly of all her failures. She quivered a moment, like a leaf caught in a gale, and her gaze did not leave the woman who told her that she was not alone.
They both lived, she knew, and yet somewhere far away from where she lay now, the snow already working to cover the blemish on the otherwise whitewashed mountainside. It was her own fault, her own blasted fault, for staining the serene place with her presence and her torn up trail, the spots of blood that littered it like holes in the perfection of the winter. And yet faults were always smoothed out by the great force that shaped the Wilds, and perhaps it would scuff her out too.
The greeting of another had her fall still; not even in the height of her failure could she fade from the world soundlessly. For a long while, she dared not shift, but it were the words that followed that had the dying ember within the shadow spark, and she lifted carefully her muzzle and turned to view the imposter. you are not alone. But she was, surely? No other could have fallen as she had, to this dark and dirty place. The words had her a tinge of comfort, however; and it was after a moment of painfully slow thought that she understood. It was not the word themselves that had the shadow's gaze rake the woman as it did, but the voice that uttered them.
And then she understood. "mother," The word was a breath of wind, nearly hidden among the gusts below. It was relieved and shocked, and too ashamed and quilty, scared and with the wondering innocence, she'd forsaken long ago. She'd wondered once if death would come by the river, and now she wondered it again. How cruel of the world, to die in the face of the thing that shamed and spoke loudly of all her failures. She quivered a moment, like a leaf caught in a gale, and her gaze did not leave the woman who told her that she was not alone.
That is not dead which can eternal lie.
And with strange aeons even death may die.
And with strange aeons even death may die.
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Messages In This Thread
you're beside me, breathing so loud - by Cassiopeia - January 13, 2018, 01:27 PM
RE: you're beside me, breathing so loud - by Olive - January 13, 2018, 05:04 PM
RE: you're beside me, breathing so loud - by Cassiopeia - January 13, 2018, 08:38 PM
RE: you're beside me, breathing so loud - by Olive - January 14, 2018, 01:24 PM
RE: you're beside me, breathing so loud - by Cassiopeia - January 14, 2018, 07:19 PM
RE: you're beside me, breathing so loud - by Olive - January 17, 2018, 09:03 PM