10-08-2020, 12:12 PM
It surprises her how easily he takes her allusion that their mother had ever meant to harm them. There's no reason he should forget that Popinjay had never once cared what her feral twins had done, and certainly, Manikin had never actually tried to protect Avo. It begs the question of why she would even suggest such a ridiculous thing, except that she is a liar, and it is what liars do. He curls his jaw close to the soft skin of his neck and her lips curl into a wicked smile that he cannot see, one that softens almost sadly when he tries to look down at her from where she leans into him, small and vulnerable. Her ears tremble faintly.
"No. No, Avo." Her yellow eyes shut and she turns her face away from his so when they re-open it is on the glorious field of flowers they were raised in. She takes a breath as if gathering courage and looks at him again.
"You're wrong, Avo, I'm sorry." She isn't. "It was you she hated, she'd have killed you so many times if I hadn't stopped her."
Silently, the memories whisper to his heart and to his mind. She does not know how hard it is to change a heart because she has never tried, but she calls out anyway. Minds are easier, so many little paths in the forest of his memory, where will this one go?
"I made her mad at me to keep you safe, Avo, how could you have defended yourself against her?" And in the dark theater of her mind, she creates a terrifying image of their mother looming above a sleeping Avocet, fragile and defenseless as a blind bird in its nest. Electricity crackles around her, heat-lightning illuminating the night-time grove, and something aggressive twists her lips into an angry scowl. The white of her teeth reflect the lightning, and there can be no doubt that they will soon be buried into the child's neck, the tense muscles of her neck ready to shake the life from him, hard hooves to crush his body and splinter his bones.
This is the reality of Mama, her magic whispers softly, wandering the avenue of his memory.
And then, just as the strike begins, there is Manikin, small but sturdy, her kitten growl breaking the hush of the empty grassland like glass. Beaked and clawed, she is between them, standing over Avocet not to attack him but to protect him. She draws away Popinjay's anger with a swat that makes blood blossom bright across the mare's nose, draws the monster on whom they depended for survival away from her unarmed, endangered brother.
Don't you remember?
And then she shakes her head sadly.
"If it was just a hunt, Avocet, where are my claws?"
"No. No, Avo." Her yellow eyes shut and she turns her face away from his so when they re-open it is on the glorious field of flowers they were raised in. She takes a breath as if gathering courage and looks at him again.
"You're wrong, Avo, I'm sorry." She isn't. "It was you she hated, she'd have killed you so many times if I hadn't stopped her."
Silently, the memories whisper to his heart and to his mind. She does not know how hard it is to change a heart because she has never tried, but she calls out anyway. Minds are easier, so many little paths in the forest of his memory, where will this one go?
"I made her mad at me to keep you safe, Avo, how could you have defended yourself against her?" And in the dark theater of her mind, she creates a terrifying image of their mother looming above a sleeping Avocet, fragile and defenseless as a blind bird in its nest. Electricity crackles around her, heat-lightning illuminating the night-time grove, and something aggressive twists her lips into an angry scowl. The white of her teeth reflect the lightning, and there can be no doubt that they will soon be buried into the child's neck, the tense muscles of her neck ready to shake the life from him, hard hooves to crush his body and splinter his bones.
This is the reality of Mama, her magic whispers softly, wandering the avenue of his memory.
And then, just as the strike begins, there is Manikin, small but sturdy, her kitten growl breaking the hush of the empty grassland like glass. Beaked and clawed, she is between them, standing over Avocet not to attack him but to protect him. She draws away Popinjay's anger with a swat that makes blood blossom bright across the mare's nose, draws the monster on whom they depended for survival away from her unarmed, endangered brother.
Don't you remember?
And then she shakes her head sadly.
"If it was just a hunt, Avocet, where are my claws?"
@[avocet]