December 20, 2016, 05:37 PM
(This post was last modified: December 20, 2016, 06:01 PM by Eshamun.)
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it came to pass that eshamun felt the hand of molech upon her, and knew it was time to give the child back to the eight-armed one. eshamun knew much time had been lost -- guilt had settled upon her for this -- but she steeled herself and went down to asherah's den. "sister," the canaanite murmured as she entered, after announcing herself with a series of barks. "it is time." she met the wolfess' eyes with a quiet glance, and allowed the new mother the time she needed before she allowed eshamun to move forward and back from the den with bachir held gently in her jaws.
@Ar-Khalba stood near — she met his eyes with for a silent moment, before turning and making her way to the river, presumably with asherah in tow. once there, she lay the child between her forepaws and called for the odd doctor and the rust-marked wolfess. they were the only ones among the malkaria who had not seen this most sacred ceremony, and now the two must learn.[/tr][/td][/table]
December 20, 2016, 06:23 PM
Had it been any other howl that roused Giana that night, she might've got up only to rip their throats out -- her stomach was cramping like never before, she'd peed five times in a twenty minute span, no amount or type of food could fill or appease the void that was her suddenly so fickle appetite, and overall she was just very, very hormonal -- but it was none other than the voice of the little flame that woke the Angelo from a fitful nap.
Grumbling, Giana pulled herself to her paws and trod lightly from her hollow log den and made for the river -- she had no idea what was about to happen until she arrived to see a small gathering, and her storm eyes went to the tiny boy between Eshamun's paws. One of Asherahs children, she knew -- it was being sent on its way to Molech, and Giana had been called to watch. Why was beyond her, but her irritated expression soon morphed into one of understanding and then settled on sober before she'd rolled back on her haunches with a wince from the pull of her stomach on her small frame.
Grumbling, Giana pulled herself to her paws and trod lightly from her hollow log den and made for the river -- she had no idea what was about to happen until she arrived to see a small gathering, and her storm eyes went to the tiny boy between Eshamun's paws. One of Asherahs children, she knew -- it was being sent on its way to Molech, and Giana had been called to watch. Why was beyond her, but her irritated expression soon morphed into one of understanding and then settled on sober before she'd rolled back on her haunches with a wince from the pull of her stomach on her small frame.
December 20, 2016, 06:44 PM
The days flew by so quickly! She soaked up every moment in the den, emersed herself in the small dark world that was filled with only her and the pups, and the occasional visitor. She allowed Ar-Khalba and Eshamun to visit as they pleased, others were not so openly welcomed, or outright dismissed. Yet when the Ekar-Aji came to her den this day, Asherah knew this time was different. The tone of voice was enough to tell her, and she felt a sudden dread rise in her belly. She had not been expecting this emotion, this sudden fear and panic. She had made her peace with Bachir's life, with his purpose...or so she had thought.
She met Eshamun's gaze as a deer staring down a predator but she soon gathered herself, spoke a quiet prayer, and turned to her children. She nuzzled them all, softly rubbing her face over their backs so that she could touch all three at once. She did this many times, to cement the feeling in her mind. Her tears wet the downy fluff of the pups before she realize she was crying. She did not sob, but the tears came all the same. After another moment of her caresses, she pulled Bachir from his siblings and set him apart. She sank to her belly and ran her nose over the length of him. She groomed him carefully, inhaled his scent deep into herself so that he might always be apart of her.
"You are sent from Molech, my sweet Bachir. You a savior to your siblings and they shall not go a day without knowing your name, without thanking you in their prayers. You save them even as you condemn them to live this life of pain. You are saved, saved by Molech my darling wonderful boy. You have made me so proud, and I will be so proud and so thankful of you, for you, for all my days." She kissed his cheeks, his head and his back. And finally then, with her face dry of tears she stood back and allowed Eshamun to lift her son.
She followed with her head high, with the pride that she had just spoken to Eshamun of. As she left she caught sight of Ar-Khalba and her resolve wavered for a moment. She regained herself and without speaking, asked him to mind the others. To love them, and keep them warm while she was gone. She doubted he wanted to see another child of his be sacrificed, and it was an honor to be trusted alone with the children so young. "Go to them, please."
Once they reached the river, Eshamun placed Bachir on the ground. Asherah sat beside her sister, eyes focused on the waters. They were so cold right now, she realized. Perhaps it would make the passing easier. She averted her gaze and tried not to think on it much more. Giana arrived, sitting soberly with her large belly. Asherah dipped her head in silent thanks to the woman for being here.
She met Eshamun's gaze as a deer staring down a predator but she soon gathered herself, spoke a quiet prayer, and turned to her children. She nuzzled them all, softly rubbing her face over their backs so that she could touch all three at once. She did this many times, to cement the feeling in her mind. Her tears wet the downy fluff of the pups before she realize she was crying. She did not sob, but the tears came all the same. After another moment of her caresses, she pulled Bachir from his siblings and set him apart. She sank to her belly and ran her nose over the length of him. She groomed him carefully, inhaled his scent deep into herself so that he might always be apart of her.
"You are sent from Molech, my sweet Bachir. You a savior to your siblings and they shall not go a day without knowing your name, without thanking you in their prayers. You save them even as you condemn them to live this life of pain. You are saved, saved by Molech my darling wonderful boy. You have made me so proud, and I will be so proud and so thankful of you, for you, for all my days." She kissed his cheeks, his head and his back. And finally then, with her face dry of tears she stood back and allowed Eshamun to lift her son.
She followed with her head high, with the pride that she had just spoken to Eshamun of. As she left she caught sight of Ar-Khalba and her resolve wavered for a moment. She regained herself and without speaking, asked him to mind the others. To love them, and keep them warm while she was gone. She doubted he wanted to see another child of his be sacrificed, and it was an honor to be trusted alone with the children so young. "Go to them, please."
Once they reached the river, Eshamun placed Bachir on the ground. Asherah sat beside her sister, eyes focused on the waters. They were so cold right now, she realized. Perhaps it would make the passing easier. She averted her gaze and tried not to think on it much more. Giana arrived, sitting soberly with her large belly. Asherah dipped her head in silent thanks to the woman for being here.
December 30, 2016, 08:23 PM
feel free to hop in anytime, @Bastian! <3
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giana joined them, and eshamun swung her muzzle to regard the pregnant she-wolf gently. ar-khalba would attend the living children, and it was just as well, for she did not wish him to see such a thing. he had suffered enough loss. the ekar-aji leant forward to press her lips gently against asherah's cheek, and then lifted her eyes to the heavens. "great one," the woman murmured. "we have gathered before you today to commit another child into your arms, that the malkaria may flourish, that our pack may not falter beneath the weight of many mouths. please accept the sacrifice of this child from the womb of our acolyte, a blessed babe."
the ekar-aji looked to asherah now, to hear what words the mother and aspiring priestess might speak, and when the moment had passed, eshamun looked down at the child gently moving at her paws, seeking warmth from the frigid snow at his belly. a moment of weakness sparked within her — she could not do this thing! — but she put it aside. she must, for the good of the malkaria.
and so the canaanite lifted the infant and delved him beneath the waters of the tophet, and held him there as her sister had done for eshamun's own brood, until his tiny movements ceased and his spirit was lifted to molech.
and her cheeks were wet with tears that she neither tried nor intended to hide; she stood with the small body between her jaws and motioned that the wolves accompany her the short distance to the shrine, and there she would ask that giana dig the grave.[/tr][/td][/table]
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