ghost of the mist, keep your ancient tryst
back to the lone lane of the sea, slip silently
Kota is a distant, aloof little ghost always moving through the trees like a fog. She’s not one to approach someone for no reason and just begin chatting – what a silly thing to do, she’s always thought. The overo doesn’t pretend and small talk seems to be just that, pretending. Approach with a purpose or keep to yourself, a solid way a life that’s served her so far.
Her children, and occasionally her obnoxious father, are the only real socialization she’s ever sought or even desired, really. Every lover taken has been left in silence, or in the case of Carnage, he simply vanished after conception – how perfect. She’s always loved a good roll with the old devil of Beqanna. The father of her, and eighty percent of this world’s, children is most certainly responsible for this darkness. For the monsters that have said to have been released through the afterlife gates. She can hear the blood-curdling calls of the predatory beasts, hunting. And the desperate screams of those they’re praying upon. Kota’s heart is heavy with worry for her daughter (the one who is not in Pangea) and granddaughter. She’s almost certain her father has slithered to safety, probably with a horde of mares if he’s gotten his way.
She’s decided to go look for Let and Fenwe, she cannot stand it any longer. The darkness isn’t what makes her fearful, but what lurks in it. The pale woman swoops and darts like a deer on high alert, moving her feet carefully and sometimes freezing in place mid-step to listen to what is around her. She’s on her way to cross the border out of Pangea when she smells something, hears something peculiar. She smells birth and all of its accompanied aromas…a child being the most alluring smell to her nose. She’s a cold ghost but she’s the warmest mother, an odd contradiction she’s carried with her since her first child. She’s drawn to caring for them, teaching them, protecting and nurturing them. It’s a rooted instinct she happily embraces, never being able to leave any child without care or love if it does not have it. And with that in mind you can imagine her internal horror when she approaches the scene she finds in the darkness.
She moves quietly but it’s likely the creature holding the child in its claws is as aware of Kota as she is of it. She couldn’t help but creep closer, her heart fluttering with nerves, her stomach twisted into a stone. “Are you killing that baby?” her voice is tight, as tightly wound as her muscles clinging to her bones, ready to flee… She would have flown on four feet if not for the child, which made her feel like her feet were firmly cemented in quicksand. She tries to figure out just what she was looking at…she could see claws on a little bundle of fur, and a distant firelight gleaming off of what looked like a giant beak. She’s probably just made a grave mistake, she contemplates, perhaps this is her death; trying to save a child.
~ for @[Dreamscar]
I hope this is okay! She's a mamabear, so when she walks by this whole scene she's like WAIT, WHAT?!
