SabbatH
i'll let you play the role. i'll be your animal.
Watching Prayer die before her eyes has made her more bitter and paranoid than usual. She leaves the twins only when she is certain that they are safe – when Tarnished or the magicians are nearby to watch over them. Today she remains tucked away in her little den of wild grasses and spring flowers when she hears someone approaching. The serpent woman bristles and she steps in front of the younger children, eyes narrowed and head lowered like a dog preparing to bite. But the voice that calls out for her is a familiar one.
Dacre. Her boy.
Her ears perk and she hurries forward to meet him, eagerly curling her neck over his in a soft embrace. He always smells of kelp and salt when he comes home and she loves to breathe him in. Sabbath ignores the way her jaw aches when she kisses his face like he’s still a small child to her. Eucharist snorts behind her, jealous of her affections for his elder brother. The boy edges forward from the den but he is very careful to keep himself positioned behind his mother. His scaled wings fidget uneasily as he peers around her hip at him.
“Dacre, my perfect boy, I’m so glad you’re here,” she says with a smile weighed heavily by grief. “So much has happened I.. I don’t know where to begin.”
And she steps back both to give the kelpie son some space while also making it easier to see Eucharist.
“Dacre, this is your brother Eucharist, and in the den is your sister Reign. Eucharist, this is-“
“I know who he is,” the little pegasus chirps, his small chest puffed out in some feigned bravado. He skims their thoughts and pieces the clues together faster than their tongues can explain. Sabbath exhales slowly and nudges his small cheek.
“Family is all we have in this life. Be kind to them above all others,” she warns him before kissing his forehead and turning back to Dacre. She avoids his gaze as she gathers the strength to break the news to him. They had never been close, as siblings, but Sabbath has always loved them with every shred of her heart. The sun did not rise if one of them was not near her. “Prayer is gone. One of our own took her down.”
Dacre. Her boy.
Her ears perk and she hurries forward to meet him, eagerly curling her neck over his in a soft embrace. He always smells of kelp and salt when he comes home and she loves to breathe him in. Sabbath ignores the way her jaw aches when she kisses his face like he’s still a small child to her. Eucharist snorts behind her, jealous of her affections for his elder brother. The boy edges forward from the den but he is very careful to keep himself positioned behind his mother. His scaled wings fidget uneasily as he peers around her hip at him.
“Dacre, my perfect boy, I’m so glad you’re here,” she says with a smile weighed heavily by grief. “So much has happened I.. I don’t know where to begin.”
And she steps back both to give the kelpie son some space while also making it easier to see Eucharist.
“Dacre, this is your brother Eucharist, and in the den is your sister Reign. Eucharist, this is-“
“I know who he is,” the little pegasus chirps, his small chest puffed out in some feigned bravado. He skims their thoughts and pieces the clues together faster than their tongues can explain. Sabbath exhales slowly and nudges his small cheek.
“Family is all we have in this life. Be kind to them above all others,” she warns him before kissing his forehead and turning back to Dacre. She avoids his gaze as she gathers the strength to break the news to him. They had never been close, as siblings, but Sabbath has always loved them with every shred of her heart. The sun did not rise if one of them was not near her. “Prayer is gone. One of our own took her down.”