05-08-2016, 06:00 PM
Dacia
Jamie x Astri
The mountains look like people, she thinks. Hands, cupping one another in the valleys that rise into sloping arms and broad shoulders, leading to faces that see the sun first before the life below has a chance. How long have they been here; the silent guardians of the Chamber? Stoic, weathering the elements, shaped by them but still remaining. They’ve embraced fire, stood to tell the tale. These mountains, with their quiet woods and their ancient creatures, had been here long before Beqanna was a notion and they would be here long after Dacia and her great grandchildren were forgotten. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
She loves them though. She loves them like she loves many things here. In a way, she offers everything to them. Her pain, the atrocity that is life, even the beauty that sometimes circumvents the horror. Highs and lows, all of them, each one having begun or ended right here in this hallowed earth. She would die here, if she could choose. But death does not come for her today, nor would it come for the young girl in the future to pass, so she gazes at her mountains (yes, they are hers) and smiles briefly to the tangle of fur and limbs that is her eldest son, Hellbane.
Mortal needed only a label before finding his independence in the wooded kingdom. Hellbane was a different story. He’d spoken not a word since he left her womb, silent as a grave. Dacia’s not accustomed to the unordinary so his meekness has her struggling to find an answer. Being a newly-made mother was a challenge on its own without the burden of a soundless child. “Hellbane,” She calls to him, voice hovering above a whisper. His ears flick back - those beautiful ears, dipped in dark green - but he doesn’t turn his head. “come here, please.”
He’s not deaf. He can clearly hear her and distinguish what sounds she’s making when she speaks. The language doesn’t escape him, simply the mastery of it. Stubborn, it would seem. Her firstborn disobeys her without explanation, choosing wordless resistance over easy conversation. Frustrated, she draws near, olive green nose gliding protectively over his rump. “What is it?” She questions, humming meaningless chords through his skin so that he might understand the vibrations of tune or melody. Silent as the mountains above them he only stares out into the spotted woods, shadows dancing over his familiar bay coat as the breeze disturbs the canopy above them.
The mother of twins follows his eyes and for the first time, she sees her.
She loves them though. She loves them like she loves many things here. In a way, she offers everything to them. Her pain, the atrocity that is life, even the beauty that sometimes circumvents the horror. Highs and lows, all of them, each one having begun or ended right here in this hallowed earth. She would die here, if she could choose. But death does not come for her today, nor would it come for the young girl in the future to pass, so she gazes at her mountains (yes, they are hers) and smiles briefly to the tangle of fur and limbs that is her eldest son, Hellbane.
Mortal needed only a label before finding his independence in the wooded kingdom. Hellbane was a different story. He’d spoken not a word since he left her womb, silent as a grave. Dacia’s not accustomed to the unordinary so his meekness has her struggling to find an answer. Being a newly-made mother was a challenge on its own without the burden of a soundless child. “Hellbane,” She calls to him, voice hovering above a whisper. His ears flick back - those beautiful ears, dipped in dark green - but he doesn’t turn his head. “come here, please.”
He’s not deaf. He can clearly hear her and distinguish what sounds she’s making when she speaks. The language doesn’t escape him, simply the mastery of it. Stubborn, it would seem. Her firstborn disobeys her without explanation, choosing wordless resistance over easy conversation. Frustrated, she draws near, olive green nose gliding protectively over his rump. “What is it?” She questions, humming meaningless chords through his skin so that he might understand the vibrations of tune or melody. Silent as the mountains above them he only stares out into the spotted woods, shadows dancing over his familiar bay coat as the breeze disturbs the canopy above them.
The mother of twins follows his eyes and for the first time, she sees her.
Color-Changing Vixen of the Chamber