12-09-2016, 01:17 AM
POTION & ECCO
The daughter was not wrong in her complaints. Against the thickening fog, grasping at their legs like a ghost, the heat was choking. Uncomfortable was the least colorful word to describe it. It clung like a heavy blanket, the material anything but breathable. Cloaked in thick wool in a too hot room, made to suffer its closeness. A dampness clung to the misty silver of their coats, creating an illusion of glistening hair where the sun would break through the cover of trees lighting them in dappled sparkles. Despite the troublesome weather, it was a magical setting, preying on those that would be all too consumed with the majesty of it. Never mind that the two women were at their least lethal as they grazed in the copse of trees.
Potion chewed without much thought of her doing, awaiting an answer from the girl (Ecco would always be a young girl to her Dam). While she found the summer temperatures unpleasant, she made no qualms against them. Her words would do nothing to spare them from that which they could not control, irritating as it was. Actually, they had both now been exposed to an array of climates, first with the Cove. Bitter sea winds, cool shore breezes, the salty dryness of the hills that surrounded the cliffs. Soggy grasses that came from tempests that ravaged the beaches like clockwork, wet sand that squished and clung to the skin afterwards. Then there was the Valley, short a stay as it was, Potion recalled the dark shadows. She remembered the close quarters of the trees, the pressure of bodies within the copses and a trickle of annoyance met her features. The Mountain followed, cold and cool but in a different way altogether. Air that bit you was hard to get used to but they had managed- they had to.
This was nothing, this was bearable even, compared to some. Besides, those from the Cove, those of the lines of Khaos were not easily swayed by a little physical discomfort. There were those among their number that actually welcomed it, that asked for it. Potion had seen it all too many times, women trembling against her Father, panting, asking for more.
Ecco’s jaw set, coming to rest in a flat line across her face as her Mother’s words reached her ears. She took her time choosing her words. While she could be a mouthy brat, as much as the rest, she was not quick to disrespect her Dam- mostly she knew better, even while her Mother’s gifts were absent. The women had a mutual understanding of each other, an unspoken rule. It would have been too easy for them to destroy each other. For one to reduce the other to ash or a pile of decomposed matter to match the lichen against the Forest floor. “Less than some, more than most,” the silver girl finally offered. Before she could elaborate their twosome soon became a three, making a triangle in the woods, the two mares lifting their heads from the earth.
They exchanged a glance as the woman spoke up, chatting on comfortably for having run into two unknowns. She was unusual in a sense and not just for her bold chit chat. Her coat was green like the moss on the trees and her hair was vivid red like a cardinal sitting in its branches. Color specialty was nothing new, they had all graced the beaches with streaks of lavender, rich coats of plum. However it did not take away from her uniqueness and the two mares greeted her with an alert look, a swish of their tails and the perking of their ears as they rotated forward towards the noise. “It’s less favorable than most seasons, we do not favor it no,” Potion let on, letting the words touch the the breeze that glided past them all. “We’ve business to attend to, much the same as always,” she began, watching the colorful mare through liquid lavender eyes. Something was familiar, perhaps she had spotted her once or twice before.
“We’ve been called many things Slaybell (heathens, savages, degenerates) but one has just one true name if I’m not correct.” Oh was it not fun to dance around the subject for a moment? “I am Potion, this is Ecco. Tell me, what do you know of Kirin?” The question was nonchalant, one could not be sure that she was even interested in knowing the response.
dont you open up that window, dont you let out that antidote
word count: 754 -accrued points: 22 -HTML by Call