every scar and bone will build my throne
I had been quite certain that there was no one else about. The caws from the birds would often give away another's presence, but I had been far too engrossed in my race against the avian creatures, pushing and pushing, and yet I had succumbed to defeat. This time. This time... I would be sure that there would be one day that I could beat their wings. One day indeed.
She appeared, the shimmer of silvery blue. Between the trees, it looked like a shadow dancing against the spires of light, a trick of the eye, but as she appeared before me, all gentle words and soft eyes, I furrowed an imaginary brow, pawed at the moist earth of the chamber floor, and snorted, obviously disgruntled. 'Nearly isn't good enough, you know. Nearly doesn't win, nearly doesn't get things achieved.' There was something dark about the way I spoke, like a sliver of shadow had become wisps from my lips. But as my amber eyes found the young girl, I felt my shoulders soften and my jaw loosen, if only a little.
'Bent feathers are something.' I extended my muzzle to sniff at the ground, lips parting and revealing teeth that plucked at the feathers on the floor, as if some small trophies, for the loser that is. I shook my whole body, ridding myself of the sheen of ash that clung to my sweaty form. I rose my head once again, lips toying with the idea of a smile. 'Maybe one will come crashing down next time, one down, thousands more to go.' I spoke as though telling some secret, hushed, purposefully quiet. They could hear, the birds, they saw, they heard, they told. And I did not want the Queen to hear of my exploits against the birds. It was only a race, I'd say, it wouldn't be my fault if one bird decided to.. act mercenary to my feet.
The idea made me chuckle and then the realisation that I was not alone hit me, but as I looked up, It was in fact one of the birds sitting above me, beak smirking, beady eyes watching. He'd knocked a twig down and it had landed on my rump, goading me. I snorted, rose a foreleg and dug at the earth with a fury, at loss, at the birds. My mother wouldn't care for this sort of brattish behaviour and well, my father he would have given me that moss green eye and I would get lost in the trees for the time being, sulking perhaps.
Amber eyes drew back up to meet the girl, a few casual steps forward, closer, muzzle extending, inhaling her scent. She was new, I gathered. Yet the pine was attaching itself to her already, perhaps she was not some mere passer-through.
'Vercingetorix.' I say and then tighten my lips in a slight grimace. 'I'll make the jokes before you, don't worry.' my name, it is always the name. Perhaps I should simply not introduce myself at all -- didn't girls like mystery? Ah, but I was not up for impressing anyone, not quite yet. It was my mother, my father right now. And the Chamber of course. Live for the Chamber. Work for the Chamber. Chamber. it seemed to be the root of all, quite literally.
'You're new here, aren't you?' I ask, smooth tones, course like the bark of the trees, yet a baritone that rivals the loudest caw of the ravens. 'Wayra. Pleased to meet you.' it was my mother talking, she had instilled respect, politeness, her silver tongue, into me. But it was the rugged earth that called me, the way the pines entangled themselves, made me want toe explore for hours, not talk of fanciful things and pointless ambitions... for now at least.
vercingetorix
killdare x engelsfors