06-12-2020, 10:30 PM
SabbatH
i'll let you play the role. i'll be your animal.
Watching her firstborn child fade before her eyes had changed something at the core of her. She began that day as a fortress, proud and strong with impenetrable iron walls. Nothing ever got to that feather-soft core of her except those she allowed in. But watching Prayer bleed out had turned her to little more than dried straw and brittle bird bones. Sabbath crumpled at the sight of it and let loose all that rage and hatred she’d been swallowing down for years. God, she wanted Adna to know what it was like to find her baby cold and lifeless.
But at the last second, she recoiled from it. She looked over the edge and found herself stepping back. Somewhere, in the depths of her anger and her ink-black despair, she would always love Adna and her children. Losing Gospel would be losing Prayer all over again. And then she would watch her sister cry as she had.
When Prayer finds her way to Tephra, then, it feels like a reversal of those same emotions - the shock, the disbelief, all the stages of grief unraveling within her. The anger comes undone and so does she. Sabbath rushes forward and pulls her daughter close to her chest to make sure she’s real and this isn’t some cruel dream. Her mind does not register the baby at her side for some time as tears stream down her pale face.
“Prayer, my sweet baby,” she mumbles into her child’s mane. When she opens those sage green eyes, she finally notices the filly that has accompanied her. She’s beautiful just like Prayer is. Sabbath takes a step back and lowers her head to the girl’s level as she takes her in.
“Hello. I’m Sabbath,” she whispers softly, afraid the normal volume of her voice will shatter this moment. She is careful not to come too close to the child. Sabbath knows her fangs and her scales frighten some children, and her brows furrow in worry as she watches her granddaughter closely. “So much has happened. I don’t even know where to begin.”
And then she laughs. It almost hurts to smile, like a muscle that has fallen into disuse and atrophied, but it’s a good kind of hurt.
But at the last second, she recoiled from it. She looked over the edge and found herself stepping back. Somewhere, in the depths of her anger and her ink-black despair, she would always love Adna and her children. Losing Gospel would be losing Prayer all over again. And then she would watch her sister cry as she had.
When Prayer finds her way to Tephra, then, it feels like a reversal of those same emotions - the shock, the disbelief, all the stages of grief unraveling within her. The anger comes undone and so does she. Sabbath rushes forward and pulls her daughter close to her chest to make sure she’s real and this isn’t some cruel dream. Her mind does not register the baby at her side for some time as tears stream down her pale face.
“Prayer, my sweet baby,” she mumbles into her child’s mane. When she opens those sage green eyes, she finally notices the filly that has accompanied her. She’s beautiful just like Prayer is. Sabbath takes a step back and lowers her head to the girl’s level as she takes her in.
“Hello. I’m Sabbath,” she whispers softly, afraid the normal volume of her voice will shatter this moment. She is careful not to come too close to the child. Sabbath knows her fangs and her scales frighten some children, and her brows furrow in worry as she watches her granddaughter closely. “So much has happened. I don’t even know where to begin.”
And then she laughs. It almost hurts to smile, like a muscle that has fallen into disuse and atrophied, but it’s a good kind of hurt.