09-27-2016, 03:03 PM
now don’t you understand…that I’m never changing who I am?
There was a lull in the conversation as the winds shifted and the seasons changed. Moggett stood there patiently, as did Reagan and Jinju, and then a new woman—a tall woman—came calling, barely giving a word of greeting to the stunted man, and hardly acknowledging the women at all. Jinju had followed along—Reggie could hardly expect her to be left behind—and the Guardian made space for her sooty little angel beside her. Blinking nary a beat, she waits, gives a bump to Jinju’s soft head, and speaks to Moggett again.
“Summer time is coming, I assure you, though where we live does see winter—but it is winter at its most pure. Sheltered trees more dense than this provide protection for us, and summer provides shade. The girl and I reside there.” Nuzzling Jinju, she flicked her ears, and pushed the little ribbons of fire from out of her body to play around Jinju’s—so that her young pupil/daughter/niece would get a feeling of the fire that she would one day wield. Such displays were, she assumed, foreign to the two standing before her—though the tall one had the stench of Carnage about her—and she resumed her conversation with the man. “My name is Reagan, and this is Jinju. And as to knowing your name, it is a paltry example of the things I am capable of. I am the resident magick and Guardian of the Taiga Forest.”
Reagan was unsure of how to regard the dappled woman. Her mind’s eye said that her name was Tioga, but she was unsure as to what she wanted or what she was after. The magic of Carnage was nothing to desired, and yet Reagan’s ability to work beyond it was weak. She believed in God, but her magic was of the mundane—she could not herself claim to be what she was not.
She was no God.
“Summer time is coming, I assure you, though where we live does see winter—but it is winter at its most pure. Sheltered trees more dense than this provide protection for us, and summer provides shade. The girl and I reside there.” Nuzzling Jinju, she flicked her ears, and pushed the little ribbons of fire from out of her body to play around Jinju’s—so that her young pupil/daughter/niece would get a feeling of the fire that she would one day wield. Such displays were, she assumed, foreign to the two standing before her—though the tall one had the stench of Carnage about her—and she resumed her conversation with the man. “My name is Reagan, and this is Jinju. And as to knowing your name, it is a paltry example of the things I am capable of. I am the resident magick and Guardian of the Taiga Forest.”
Reagan was unsure of how to regard the dappled woman. Her mind’s eye said that her name was Tioga, but she was unsure as to what she wanted or what she was after. The magic of Carnage was nothing to desired, and yet Reagan’s ability to work beyond it was weak. She believed in God, but her magic was of the mundane—she could not herself claim to be what she was not.
She was no God.