06-24-2017, 08:24 AM
This is the first time the moth-baby has been south since she was encased in womb, in a protective cage of bone which she loved... Sometimes she misses her bone cage, longs to be within the loving confines of her mother’s body again. She often mourns the loss of her comfortable cocoon. No longer can she feel her mother’s pumping heart or hear the waves of her breath crashing into her lungs. And the loudness. Ugh, the noise. Everything is so loud out in the world, and bright, and fast. She’s been glued to her mother’s freckled hip, eyeing the world suspiciously from there. More and more she’s been straying, but no more than one hundred yards or so, and only for a few minutes.
For the last few days she’s been walking and walking, it seems. Along the coast they go, stopping here and there but mostly walking. Her fuzzy legs are sore and her belly is grumbling. We haven’t stopped in a while.. She ponders this but knows better than to prod her mother, she does not feel like getting snapped at, which she will most certainly do. Though she fawns gently over the baby most times, always in fact, she does not tolerate being beckoned for food and will bark or nip. Oleandar does not know this, but it will train her to not depend too harshly on a single source of food. This will drive the child to search and learn what is good, thus weaning herself out of convenience. Her mother did it to her and it is a valuable piece to one’s puzzle if you want to be a survivor.
Rain. The moth-baby’s sensitive nose can smell it. Thunder cracks far off, beyond the breathing waves slapping the sand, beyond the cragged stone islands that litter the coastline. She’s sure her mother can smell it too; the autumnal sea storms are moving in. City moves off of the beach and leads her daughter inland, though Olea is unaware of navigational exacts, they are somewhere near Taiga, following the river to the forest. When the storm’s brim reaches them they are deep in the forest and her mother is seeking out a nice thicket to rest in – milk soon; the child can smell it and she knows that now that dusk has wrapped the land, they will rest for a while until the moon rises.
Their plans are abruptly interrupted.
Growling starts from the dark corners of the forest that litters the edges of the thin trail they are travelling. City has already stopped and assumed an aggressive posture, her child huddling beneath her. She stomps three, four times, but the prowling things do not back down – they multiply. Their glowing eyes blink and float in the pockets of black. Olea’s thin wings begin to flutter with alarm; her mother’s pounding heart throbbing in her ears. Feet, claws, whatever it may – they’re getting closer, the growls getting deeper.
One shadowy figure lunges for the fragile baby but her mother is quicker, grabbing it by its prickly scruff and slamming it down onto the hard roots and packed ground. Her fore feet toss viciously into the ribs of whatever it is, Olea has no idea, and it yelps and scrambles back into the shadows. The mother knows and she curses herself for bringing the daughter here while she’s still so young. Another wolf, bigger, ganglier than the last propels from behind and then another from the side. City is again faster than she should be, a mother’s adrenaline, kicking one and stomping the other with the front. She’s been opened by tooth and claw along her left hip and beneath the stream of her bloody tears her cheek is slashed. Blood glistens in the moonlight across her pale freckled body as she heaves great breaths in and out, her tail whipping and her sulphur eyes trained to the forest’s edge.
They want the child and the mother knows it.
Still so young, but can she fly? The mother has no choice now, they will only pick her apart first and clean their teeth with her baby’s bones after. “You’ll have to fly Oleandar, NOW!” No time for debate, or lessons, City crashes forward into the darkness and the wolves take the bait. Four, then five, then seven, they pile onto her, “RUN! GO NOW! FLY!” City’s voice struggles through gritted teeth and she almost falls her knees for a second.
Suddenly they are severed and Olea is on the black wind, floating silently on colorful paper wings. She’s not sure how she did it, really, but she’s up there, just above the ground, safe from the jaws that are probably ripping into her mother. A gentle gust throws her off balance and she fumbles, falls and skids onto land. She’s about two miles in a mystery direction from her mother and lying where she has descended clumsily from flight and on the verge of tears.
Shit.
Oleandar
the moth-child of elysium & city
TLDR;
City is travelling with Olea and they are set upon by direwolves... Olea manages to escape and now she's alone.
I will be posting City in a separate thread shortly. Hopefully someone helps her XD
Feel free to find Olea though, anyone at all. She's about seven months, i think? Born last Spring.
Description of her, just to help: She's got those wings pictured above. Big pale-green tinted moth eyes, fuzzy legs, and she's quite petite. Her coat is golden champagne c:
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