Leck liked the coolness of the trees. Perhaps liked was too strong a word. He pursed his lips and looked up at the pine canopy. It was sufficient, the shade comfortable. The colt nodded sharply. His home was sufficient, for now.
The colt had changed a lot in the two months since his birth. He was beginning to understand the world around him. He was learning to manipulate it to make it suit him. He still needed Mother, and he still needed Red Eye, but he could go longer without food. He could venture farther and farther away with out fear.
Red Eye kept danger away, and Mother made sure he was fed.
Leck just needed to see to his other needs. He needed to sate is curiosity and escape the constant probing attention. He hated eyes on him, he hated words spoken to him. They gave him a headache and left a sour taste in his mouth. Still, he was learning to tolerate them. He understood, if he didn’t partake in the communication.
He couldn’t stop them from talking to him. But, he had yet to open his mouth and vomit out words.
Still, he was growing, as were his horns. Unfortunately, growth brought itching. The colt sighed, exasperated, and rubbed his head against the nearest tree. The skin around his horns were raw, and his constant rubbing of them left bloody scratches along his head.
Still, he knew knew that one day this annoyance would be worth it. Already the points were wicked and sharp. And they were long. If they continued at this rate the would be massive and heavy. One day, he would be able to inspire the same feelings as Red Eye. The same submissive twisting in the gut. Leck grinned and rubbed a little harder.
COTY
Assailant -- Year 226
QOTY
"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
What is dead may never die; Minette/Gryffen
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10-10-2015, 07:44 PM
la jeune fille marquée
Her son is growing. Every day his young muscles strengthen and the bumps that had so worried her lengthen into wickedly tipped horns. When she allows herself to question her life, which is rarely, she wonders uneasily where Leck got such a trait. Gryffen's wings are kingdom granted and not likely to have caused such a gift. Is it a gift, though? She wonders this silently. Outwardly she treats her boy with love and gentle affection. Despite the circumstances in which she finds herself, Minette is the kind of mare who was made to be a mother. In another life she would have been firmer, perhaps, and not so lax, but trials have whiled away much of her determination and she finds she cannot scold Leck overmuch. Her dreams are still haunted with Carnage's visions of the torture and death of her daughter. Leck's freedom seems a small thing in comparison. She loves the colt deeply but she feels him pulling away from her. Perhaps it is just his age, or his gender. Minette does not push him. With each day that passes she simply cherishes the moments when Leck will allow her to groom his mane or cuddle him close. He never does for long. He slinks away from her, and Minette feels bereft. The pale gray mare misses her daughter, and the ache makes her feel guilty. This should be enough. Her stallion and her son and safety. Minette watches from a distance as Leck rubs his head on a tree, easing the itch and rubbing the base of his horns raw. She hates his gift, she decides. It causes him pain, and for all the world she would not want her loved ones to suffer. She turns away, unwilling to watch. Soon the boy will want fed again but for the moment she stretches her legs into a canter. She is always in pain, but has found some small ways to ease the ache in her joints. Movement, some days. Freezing forays into the river on others. Today Minette finds that the sun, which rarely shines in the mountains, is beaming through the clouds with enough heat to satisfy the chill she feels all over while she soothes her joints with cold water. When she can no longer stand the icy tendrils creeping up her legs she stumbles from the creek as she has done a dozen times before. She realizes her error instantly. She has spent too long in the water. Her legs completely numb, she stumbles and throws out her foot to couch her fall. It lands awkwardly against the bank with a sickening crack. Horror blanches her features. Her bone has popped through the skin, a jagged edge causing a pool of blood to gather beneath her hooves. She feels little pain, but she knows instantly that she cannot walk. Reflexive tears gather in her eyes as a thousand scenarios play across her mind. She will be a burden, she might as well have broken her neck for all the use she will be. The pale gray mare wonders with despair how soon infection will set in. With every passing moment the cold of the creek wears off and overwhelming agony beats through her veins. Sudden warmth floods her leg, growing and burning, reminding her of the altar of fire when she was remade for the dark god's pleasure. Eyes wide, Minette looks down at the wound. The air around her radiates heat and though she sees no flames, it feels as if her leg is consumed. The blood reverses, traveling up her leg. The bone is sucked into her flesh with a disturbing slurp and the pain vanishes. Warily, shocked beyond belief, Min puts her hoof to the ground. Gingerly she puts her full weight on it and takes a step forward, and then another. She isn't sure what it means, this sudden healing by heat, but she knows deep down that she will not breathe a word of what has happened Somehow her time beneath the earth has given her this gift and Minette does not want to think of it. She will never give her body a chance to burn for the dark god again, not even in healing. Feeling mentally numb, Minette leaves the pool of blood near the creek and walks towards where she has last seen Leck. He needs to eat, and that is all she will allow herself to focus on. In her confusion she doesn't notice the quickly drying blood staining her pale coat. She nickers for Leck, feeling unsettled. Ooc: Once Gryffen posts and is “here” you can have Leck hurt her, Anna. ;-) Powerplay away. |
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