Atrani
”You knew her?” Her head tilts, hungry for answers. And there, for the first time in the conversation, the child smiles. Such a weak contortion of her face it is, but it trembles across her lips for a heartbeat until her muzzle lowers again. ”I wish I was able to get to know her,” the admission is painful, spoken on a tongue that has only tasted hurt and rejection. Mother forced herself to kiss her newborn, to love her in those first moments of life, but Atrani sensed how much she was actually loathed. She was a reminder to mother of what she had experienced, of the betrayal she endured.
But she wouldn’t have left if it were not for father and the other woman.
They, combined, were the destruction of Cerva.
Atrani loves father, but she cannot – will not – forgive him so easily as he wants.
She is content lying here in the grass, drinking in the smells and sounds, but she notices the sudden urgency in Magnus. He wants to find Dovev. Atrani shivers in her place and she hesitates, afraid. ”He will be mad,” she whispers disapprovingly of herself, but then, before she forces herself to her feet, she adds, ”Tephra. What is Tephra? That’s all mother told me.” She doesn’t realize that mother wanted her here, safe and sheltered.
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Atrani obediently follows Magnus. She finds enjoyment in his touch, his warmth, the softness of his skin. He doesn’t have the rigidity of father or the forceful nudges. Instead, he caters to her. One slow step after another, a warning here and there. Magnus guides her with a compassionate heart in which she admires and clutches onto when they’ve drawn to a halt.
The air is thick. There is tension. There is mistrust.
What has she done?
A lump forms in her throat, choking her of words as she presses herself further into Magnus. His shoulder is her wall, her shield underneath father’s burning gaze.
Hide. Hide now.
But why? Is there really anything for her to fear? The world is dark, her happiness minimal. Can she be destroyed more than she already is?
A breath catches in her throat as she tries to feed off the fury that’s pulsing underneath Magnus’ skin. He’s seething. She can almost taste the racing of his heart and so she tries to harness this for herself, even if only a moment. Hushed footsteps lure her from the buckskin’s side to his chest, using the outline of his body as her navigational map. She is meek in comparison to Magnus, but it doesn’t stop her now. ”Father,” she doesn’t say his name because her senses are lit by the scent of the female. Her head sightlessly turns, like a doll’s neck snapping to attention. ”It’s you,” the scent hits her like a wall, stronger now than the day she was born. ”He came back here for you,” she vocalizes her suspicions, confirming them to a group that has already realized, ”so soon after mother.” She doesn’t say death, or disappearance, because it hurts too much still.
There is no need to say more, to confess her losses, to admit that she truly is irrelevant in this bitter world.
Backing up, Atrani finds Magnus’ warmth and presses herself back into his shoulder.
But she wouldn’t have left if it were not for father and the other woman.
They, combined, were the destruction of Cerva.
Atrani loves father, but she cannot – will not – forgive him so easily as he wants.
She is content lying here in the grass, drinking in the smells and sounds, but she notices the sudden urgency in Magnus. He wants to find Dovev. Atrani shivers in her place and she hesitates, afraid. ”He will be mad,” she whispers disapprovingly of herself, but then, before she forces herself to her feet, she adds, ”Tephra. What is Tephra? That’s all mother told me.” She doesn’t realize that mother wanted her here, safe and sheltered.
------
Atrani obediently follows Magnus. She finds enjoyment in his touch, his warmth, the softness of his skin. He doesn’t have the rigidity of father or the forceful nudges. Instead, he caters to her. One slow step after another, a warning here and there. Magnus guides her with a compassionate heart in which she admires and clutches onto when they’ve drawn to a halt.
The air is thick. There is tension. There is mistrust.
What has she done?
A lump forms in her throat, choking her of words as she presses herself further into Magnus. His shoulder is her wall, her shield underneath father’s burning gaze.
Hide. Hide now.
But why? Is there really anything for her to fear? The world is dark, her happiness minimal. Can she be destroyed more than she already is?
A breath catches in her throat as she tries to feed off the fury that’s pulsing underneath Magnus’ skin. He’s seething. She can almost taste the racing of his heart and so she tries to harness this for herself, even if only a moment. Hushed footsteps lure her from the buckskin’s side to his chest, using the outline of his body as her navigational map. She is meek in comparison to Magnus, but it doesn’t stop her now. ”Father,” she doesn’t say his name because her senses are lit by the scent of the female. Her head sightlessly turns, like a doll’s neck snapping to attention. ”It’s you,” the scent hits her like a wall, stronger now than the day she was born. ”He came back here for you,” she vocalizes her suspicions, confirming them to a group that has already realized, ”so soon after mother.” She doesn’t say death, or disappearance, because it hurts too much still.
There is no need to say more, to confess her losses, to admit that she truly is irrelevant in this bitter world.
Backing up, Atrani finds Magnus’ warmth and presses herself back into his shoulder.
dove into her eyes and starved all the fears
picture by haenuli shin- HTML by Call - words: ________
[Image: callwolf_zpsasro4cel.png]