08-16-2017, 09:29 AM
Ellyse
I know some things that you don't; I've done things that you won't
there's nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home
there's nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home
It is not long until she is accompanied by another, and she is quiet – watchful.
She is etched with fine, shapely muscles, but carved out of raw emerald – she had not known many so vividly .. colorful in her lifetime, but she can clearly see the wild beauty in her tangled tresses and her bright, piercing eyes that must have drawn her son to her. She can see recognition dawn within the iciness of her gaze, and she cannot suppress the faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth – her son was every bit a part of her, from the pale gold of his skin to the vivid hazel of her eyes (though darker, more honeyed, not unlike his father).
There are definitive differences, such as the color of their feathered appendages (Canaan a deep russet, and her own a stark ivory), but the resemblance is nonetheless heavy, and a deep, contented pride has already begun to swell within the tightness of her chest at the thought.
Her children were everything to her.
Perhaps that is where common ground could be found - she can see the swell of her barrel, a heaviness lingering long after childbirth – the mark of motherhood, left behind by the growing, gangling bodies that had once stirred within her womb. She knew it well, for she wore the very same feature, somewhere along the heavy and thick muscle of her body. Even now, she is expecting – but tired and weary though she may be (to her, there is nothing glorious about the hormonal imbalance and incessant pressure on her bladder), the thought is pushed away from her mind.
She has come with only one thing on her mind.
”Though I appreciate the sentiment, I will not be staying long,” she pauses then, her gaze flickering to the dense copse of vegetation that lay beyond Circinae – she was deeply familiar with the woodland, but not at all of Taiga, and the uneasiness of an untrusting war general still caused her to be apprehensive and terse within a land she is unfamiliar with. At last, her gaze focuses upon her, her browline furrowing heavily at the loaded question lain before her. ”I am – and judging by the tone of your voice, you haven’t seen him, either.”
A fester worry bubbles forth, causing her heart to skip a beat.
”My name is Ellyse. You already seem aware, but I am his mother,” she says quietly, her mind present yet elsewhere at the very same time. ”he has told me much about you. All good, I assure you. He seemed quite taken with you.” And there is a flicker of warmth in her gaze, steadied upon hers once more, breaking through the brewing storm of frustration and concern in her mind. ”He has told me that I have grandchildren, now, who I should like to meet –“
But.
There is a more pressing matter.
”Circinae, I have not seen my son in a very long time, and he has never missed a winter. When did you last see him?”
She is etched with fine, shapely muscles, but carved out of raw emerald – she had not known many so vividly .. colorful in her lifetime, but she can clearly see the wild beauty in her tangled tresses and her bright, piercing eyes that must have drawn her son to her. She can see recognition dawn within the iciness of her gaze, and she cannot suppress the faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth – her son was every bit a part of her, from the pale gold of his skin to the vivid hazel of her eyes (though darker, more honeyed, not unlike his father).
There are definitive differences, such as the color of their feathered appendages (Canaan a deep russet, and her own a stark ivory), but the resemblance is nonetheless heavy, and a deep, contented pride has already begun to swell within the tightness of her chest at the thought.
Her children were everything to her.
Perhaps that is where common ground could be found - she can see the swell of her barrel, a heaviness lingering long after childbirth – the mark of motherhood, left behind by the growing, gangling bodies that had once stirred within her womb. She knew it well, for she wore the very same feature, somewhere along the heavy and thick muscle of her body. Even now, she is expecting – but tired and weary though she may be (to her, there is nothing glorious about the hormonal imbalance and incessant pressure on her bladder), the thought is pushed away from her mind.
She has come with only one thing on her mind.
”Though I appreciate the sentiment, I will not be staying long,” she pauses then, her gaze flickering to the dense copse of vegetation that lay beyond Circinae – she was deeply familiar with the woodland, but not at all of Taiga, and the uneasiness of an untrusting war general still caused her to be apprehensive and terse within a land she is unfamiliar with. At last, her gaze focuses upon her, her browline furrowing heavily at the loaded question lain before her. ”I am – and judging by the tone of your voice, you haven’t seen him, either.”
A fester worry bubbles forth, causing her heart to skip a beat.
”My name is Ellyse. You already seem aware, but I am his mother,” she says quietly, her mind present yet elsewhere at the very same time. ”he has told me much about you. All good, I assure you. He seemed quite taken with you.” And there is a flicker of warmth in her gaze, steadied upon hers once more, breaking through the brewing storm of frustration and concern in her mind. ”He has told me that I have grandchildren, now, who I should like to meet –“
But.
There is a more pressing matter.
”Circinae, I have not seen my son in a very long time, and he has never missed a winter. When did you last see him?”
head of war of tephra
daughter of elysium & speck
daughter of elysium & speck
@[Circinae]