Den Mother*
listening
1,196 Posts
Ooc — ebony
Birdcatcher
Master Missionary
Offline
being away from the island refreshed heda with how far she had gone from her packland.
she and he headed west, and at the mouth of a bay, she turned their path toward the ruined forest of sentinels. beyond, a plateau, and beyond that, a swamp which marked the start of the hinterlands.
she hunted as they went, catching meals for herself and bartholomew. the land shifted into recognizable terrain at last. it was a place of true beauty, and heda looked for birds along their path.
but the gaiety she had carried from the — their — island faded as the days fell to a close and opened upon a new morning, until at last the proud great summit was visible.
heda stalled them into another afternoon, making a great fuss about camp and eating, but the number of times she looked toward atautsikut might have told anyone of her inner frenzy. she slept not a wink that night and the following morning she killed three ducks upon a creek and asked him to carry one.
heda led him up the slopes of volcanic ash and to the borderlands marked by strong paws. here she fidgeted, arranging the trio of white birds in the dirt before she finally got up the courage to call, to ask for someone she could tell goodbye.
silence fell. heda looked toward bartholomew for steadiness.
she and he headed west, and at the mouth of a bay, she turned their path toward the ruined forest of sentinels. beyond, a plateau, and beyond that, a swamp which marked the start of the hinterlands.
she hunted as they went, catching meals for herself and bartholomew. the land shifted into recognizable terrain at last. it was a place of true beauty, and heda looked for birds along their path.
but the gaiety she had carried from the — their — island faded as the days fell to a close and opened upon a new morning, until at last the proud great summit was visible.
heda stalled them into another afternoon, making a great fuss about camp and eating, but the number of times she looked toward atautsikut might have told anyone of her inner frenzy. she slept not a wink that night and the following morning she killed three ducks upon a creek and asked him to carry one.
heda led him up the slopes of volcanic ash and to the borderlands marked by strong paws. here she fidgeted, arranging the trio of white birds in the dirt before she finally got up the courage to call, to ask for someone she could tell goodbye.
silence fell. heda looked toward bartholomew for steadiness.
July 11, 2022, 10:38 PM
he did not utter a word about the land once they left the coast. the hinterlands seemed unkind. smothering at best. the land frequently seemed to be little more than muck and when it wasn't, the trees seemed too tall and close.
but none of that truly mattered. they were here for heda, her once home needed goodbyes and she had asked him along. these things pleased him enough to ignore the lack of seasalt in the air or the cry of gulls.
here he could see her for the fine bird hunter she was. frequently she plucked them from plains or air. he offered pride filled looks each time, mumbled a prayer over their meals and they would have their fill. each night as they laid slumbering, he prayed once more before sleep. that she remained steadfast and strong in these upcoming days, that she found the healing she needed in these goodbyes.
then the day was upon them, sooner than he would have liked truthfully.
but three white birds where presented as tribute and be found it more symbolic than she might.
The Father, The Son, The Holy Spirit.
he smiled wryly for it, but smoothed his features into something warm and supportive. this time would not be an easy one for her and he was prepared to shoulder any judgement, should they find it her way.
his eyes fixed towards the expanse of land.
but none of that truly mattered. they were here for heda, her once home needed goodbyes and she had asked him along. these things pleased him enough to ignore the lack of seasalt in the air or the cry of gulls.
here he could see her for the fine bird hunter she was. frequently she plucked them from plains or air. he offered pride filled looks each time, mumbled a prayer over their meals and they would have their fill. each night as they laid slumbering, he prayed once more before sleep. that she remained steadfast and strong in these upcoming days, that she found the healing she needed in these goodbyes.
then the day was upon them, sooner than he would have liked truthfully.
but three white birds where presented as tribute and be found it more symbolic than she might.
The Father, The Son, The Holy Spirit.
he smiled wryly for it, but smoothed his features into something warm and supportive. this time would not be an easy one for her and he was prepared to shoulder any judgement, should they find it her way.
you are strong to start off on your new path like this, heda.he told her for a time that was most certainly not the first. these few moments alone still were vital. he would prepare to be a shepherd to her here, to not let her stray so far from her intentions.
his eyes fixed towards the expanse of land.
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »