01-17-2017, 02:49 PM
ooc: i assumed for the sake of fleece's inclusion, that she'd have met Hawke back in Tephra too. <3
Mother tells them of the two gods;
Of the Mother,
Of the Trickster --
She can smell Mauve, tracks her by her scent alone; sky above and earth below, she trails her to the trees, a veritable army of them that hold their arms up in surrender or supplication - she’s not sure which, not yet, as her bright brown eyes look at them. Fleece isn’t sure of the snow underfoot either; sticky, deep, blinding, she blinks and looks away from it, thinking of home - volcanic, hot, perfect. She prefers the home warren, full of black rocks and hibiscus and the river’s song in her ears; Fleece is unaware that she is smiling, that her eyes have shut against the snowy brightness of the day as she pictures Tephra in her mind - home, mother, Mauve.
There it is again!
Her eyes snap open and she sniffs the air - Mauve’s scent! She has it now, thick and full in her nostrils as she tracks her through the trees to a spot of space generously given up by the forest. Tracking is more their father’s forte, and Mauve’s than it is hers, but she is still good enough at it to trail her sister through the world and its ways. She is more like their mother, skittish and quiet but somehow, their father’s blood lays in her - tricksy, mischievous and that is the twinkle in her eye, mischievous as she catches sight of Mauve and another, Hawke.
Both of them seem rather merry for the moment - Hawke basking with her face turned up to the sun and Mauve’s tail wiggling cheerily. Her eyes rest on the cottontail for a second, and she feels a second self stir inside her - it thumps a foot against her skin, unbends a long ear to listen for the thing that will it awaken it further, than it goes back to sleep, as dormant as the trees around them until spring lays her green hand upon their bare backs. Fleece sighs; goes to them on quick quiet feet, even for all the snow that tries to trip her up and smiles at the pair of wild ones, of which she was one too. “Very merry,” she echoes, her nose finding Mauve’s roan cheek and brushing it.
Of the Mother,
Of the Trickster --
She can smell Mauve, tracks her by her scent alone; sky above and earth below, she trails her to the trees, a veritable army of them that hold their arms up in surrender or supplication - she’s not sure which, not yet, as her bright brown eyes look at them. Fleece isn’t sure of the snow underfoot either; sticky, deep, blinding, she blinks and looks away from it, thinking of home - volcanic, hot, perfect. She prefers the home warren, full of black rocks and hibiscus and the river’s song in her ears; Fleece is unaware that she is smiling, that her eyes have shut against the snowy brightness of the day as she pictures Tephra in her mind - home, mother, Mauve.
There it is again!
Her eyes snap open and she sniffs the air - Mauve’s scent! She has it now, thick and full in her nostrils as she tracks her through the trees to a spot of space generously given up by the forest. Tracking is more their father’s forte, and Mauve’s than it is hers, but she is still good enough at it to trail her sister through the world and its ways. She is more like their mother, skittish and quiet but somehow, their father’s blood lays in her - tricksy, mischievous and that is the twinkle in her eye, mischievous as she catches sight of Mauve and another, Hawke.
Both of them seem rather merry for the moment - Hawke basking with her face turned up to the sun and Mauve’s tail wiggling cheerily. Her eyes rest on the cottontail for a second, and she feels a second self stir inside her - it thumps a foot against her skin, unbends a long ear to listen for the thing that will it awaken it further, than it goes back to sleep, as dormant as the trees around them until spring lays her green hand upon their bare backs. Fleece sighs; goes to them on quick quiet feet, even for all the snow that tries to trip her up and smiles at the pair of wild ones, of which she was one too. “Very merry,” she echoes, her nose finding Mauve’s roan cheek and brushing it.