A child was snatched away in the middle of the night by predators, eaten alive, and then thrown back into the clearing where the parents stand, silent, in shock with their yearling son and wonder what to do. The mother stares curiously, broken hearted, at her man and wonders what he will do. The man is bent forward, nose pressed into the bloody carcass of his baby girl, and his woman is wondering if he'll break. Everything will be okay as long as that boy doesn't break.
And, then, as if nothing at all happened, the man lifts his head and moves on, his family following behind, the mother clutching her last remaining child's neck in her gentle grip, sucking tearful gasps through the thick, short hair of his floppy yearling mane.
The stars twinkle in absolute silence as December sky eyes look up at them. And they return downwards in time to catch the smile of the girl of fire. Fire. It would seem the two have more in common than they would think. Elliana was born from fire, which seems strange as she took her first breath surrounded by mirrored snow. But her story started in bonfires and the heat of summer. The first wisp of Elliana was in the twirling of smoke towards the stars and the heat of the flames presses itself against her parents’ skin.
“My mother told me that stillness and steadiness is as much a dance as twirls and sashays.” She says to the girl as if she were wise when she knows so little. (As the young and foolish so often behave.)
“I am Elliana, Elodie,” she offers the greeting with a gentle smile. “Your blaze—I am grateful to have witnessed it.” She says and dips her head, peering up with blue eyes. She frowns, but Elli doesn't mirror the expression, instead she parts lips to speak once more. “Tell me everything,” she says with a steady gaze of blue, taking a step towards her. “Or only what you wish to.”
And, then, as if nothing at all happened, the man lifts his head and moves on, his family following behind, the mother clutching her last remaining child's neck in her gentle grip, sucking tearful gasps through the thick, short hair of his floppy yearling mane.
The stars twinkle in absolute silence as December sky eyes look up at them. And they return downwards in time to catch the smile of the girl of fire. Fire. It would seem the two have more in common than they would think. Elliana was born from fire, which seems strange as she took her first breath surrounded by mirrored snow. But her story started in bonfires and the heat of summer. The first wisp of Elliana was in the twirling of smoke towards the stars and the heat of the flames presses itself against her parents’ skin.
“My mother told me that stillness and steadiness is as much a dance as twirls and sashays.” She says to the girl as if she were wise when she knows so little. (As the young and foolish so often behave.)
“I am Elliana, Elodie,” she offers the greeting with a gentle smile. “Your blaze—I am grateful to have witnessed it.” She says and dips her head, peering up with blue eyes. She frowns, but Elli doesn't mirror the expression, instead she parts lips to speak once more. “Tell me everything,” she says with a steady gaze of blue, taking a step towards her. “Or only what you wish to.”