12-22-2018, 08:05 PM
She's fading faster than I can believe, a whisp of spun sugar melting in the rain. She should be dead by now, I have no doubt of it, and if she were not my daughter she would be. If she were anything less than mine. Whatever in my blood that has allowed my survival this far seemed to flow in her, whether or not that wa a blessing seemed too soon to guess. Six months old, and hardly bigger than a babe half that age.
We had not moved far from where Castile had deposited us. A sad pair, us. A barely there girl and her tattered, shattered dam. It had been a cool night, ther stars glittering down on us as we lay curled against each other in the dark. One tired wing stretched over her delicate form while we kept our fitful dreams, the broken one stretched out behind me unnaturally bent.
The moon hung fat and mellow in the pitch darkness when I woke. Fragmented visions blurred and melted away, leaving me feeling sick and disoriented. Throbbing wing, burning scars, swollen joints. It was not the plague that riddled me, merely the cost of a violent life catching up with me at last. Humming a half forgotten lullaby to the washed out girl, I worked to regain control over my breathing, my heart beat. I had been a beauty once, and perhaps that's what had landed me here. I had traded soft loveliness for a diamond edge, scars filled in with blood and iron. As damaged as I had become, I felt more real now than I had in years.
It would be easy to walk away. I'd thought about it every day for... too long. What could I win with that choice? It was a temptation that hung at the back of my mind, though I was long past the point of choosing by now. I guess that meant the choice had been made. Laying in the grass, grooming the thin threads of candy floss forelock from my girl's mane, I breathed slow at last. There were many things I'd come to regret in my life, but I could say I had at least done my best by her.
@[Miela] @[woolf]
We had not moved far from where Castile had deposited us. A sad pair, us. A barely there girl and her tattered, shattered dam. It had been a cool night, ther stars glittering down on us as we lay curled against each other in the dark. One tired wing stretched over her delicate form while we kept our fitful dreams, the broken one stretched out behind me unnaturally bent.
The moon hung fat and mellow in the pitch darkness when I woke. Fragmented visions blurred and melted away, leaving me feeling sick and disoriented. Throbbing wing, burning scars, swollen joints. It was not the plague that riddled me, merely the cost of a violent life catching up with me at last. Humming a half forgotten lullaby to the washed out girl, I worked to regain control over my breathing, my heart beat. I had been a beauty once, and perhaps that's what had landed me here. I had traded soft loveliness for a diamond edge, scars filled in with blood and iron. As damaged as I had become, I felt more real now than I had in years.
It would be easy to walk away. I'd thought about it every day for... too long. What could I win with that choice? It was a temptation that hung at the back of my mind, though I was long past the point of choosing by now. I guess that meant the choice had been made. Laying in the grass, grooming the thin threads of candy floss forelock from my girl's mane, I breathed slow at last. There were many things I'd come to regret in my life, but I could say I had at least done my best by her.
@[Miela] @[woolf]