05-05-2021, 08:46 AM
Mazikeen
Mazikeen shouldn’t trust a single thing that’s being said to her right now - but what choice does she have? She’s going to have to try to figure out what’s true and what’s false on her own. The confirmation that Gale does not care is easy to believe and it solidifies her current plan.
The idea that they’ll be able to carry on feels false but she doesn’t know how she’ll be able to work it so she can trust that who she is talking to is Gale anyway.
And then the comment about the cliffs lands and Mazikeen cannot help but burn a little brighter because of it. It is distressing, to say the least, to remember things fondly and wonder if Gale had no choice in the matter. That he may not have wanted it - her - at all. It is a constant battle, her surety of what’s been Gale and these fears chewing holes in her beliefs.
Thankfully, the voice, the Curse, offers a distraction and she involuntarily snorts when it mentions being generous, though this reaction probably isn’t wise. This does not feel like generosity and she’s pretty sure it knows that.
Still, the snort does the trick of clearing her head, and she focuses back on the topic at hand. “That’s not good enough. We have not been carrying on lately because you’ve been taking him and his memory.” She is vaguely aware that what she’s doing is dangerous but it’s too late now. She has an idea and she’s going to go with it because she can’t exactly pause and find someone to ask for advice - she’s on her own for this fight. Only this time it’s not her strength but her mind she needs to trust to be strong enough. “Pick one - day or night. Give him to me completely during one of them. Isilya’s bird told me the babies are due late spring, that’s not far away.” It had not told her this, but padding on a few more weeks gives her time.
She stands and shifts then and it’s not to show off - it’s to sell. Selling herself, her children, as she becomes a large hippogriff. It is a shape she has not shown Gale yet, so a shape the Curse has not seen and with it she displays the implication that these children are going to be capable of far more than their father. Mazikeen does not know whether she’s pushing too much or not hard enough when she changes her colour too, fiery reds and oranges eating up the natural white coat and feathers and a crown of glowing, branching horns grows from her head. Those eyes remain ever the same, focused on the blue lion before her.
The markings that are still bright down her back, her wings and through her feathers burn now in hatred for the Curse, for this situation, and for herself. And she is grateful that the eagle’s head of this shape does not display her emotions as easily because sadness is creeping in. Her voice sounds sure, though, as she uses what she has to tempt a Curse. “And they’ll be worth it.”
The idea that they’ll be able to carry on feels false but she doesn’t know how she’ll be able to work it so she can trust that who she is talking to is Gale anyway.
And then the comment about the cliffs lands and Mazikeen cannot help but burn a little brighter because of it. It is distressing, to say the least, to remember things fondly and wonder if Gale had no choice in the matter. That he may not have wanted it - her - at all. It is a constant battle, her surety of what’s been Gale and these fears chewing holes in her beliefs.
Thankfully, the voice, the Curse, offers a distraction and she involuntarily snorts when it mentions being generous, though this reaction probably isn’t wise. This does not feel like generosity and she’s pretty sure it knows that.
Still, the snort does the trick of clearing her head, and she focuses back on the topic at hand. “That’s not good enough. We have not been carrying on lately because you’ve been taking him and his memory.” She is vaguely aware that what she’s doing is dangerous but it’s too late now. She has an idea and she’s going to go with it because she can’t exactly pause and find someone to ask for advice - she’s on her own for this fight. Only this time it’s not her strength but her mind she needs to trust to be strong enough. “Pick one - day or night. Give him to me completely during one of them. Isilya’s bird told me the babies are due late spring, that’s not far away.” It had not told her this, but padding on a few more weeks gives her time.
She stands and shifts then and it’s not to show off - it’s to sell. Selling herself, her children, as she becomes a large hippogriff. It is a shape she has not shown Gale yet, so a shape the Curse has not seen and with it she displays the implication that these children are going to be capable of far more than their father. Mazikeen does not know whether she’s pushing too much or not hard enough when she changes her colour too, fiery reds and oranges eating up the natural white coat and feathers and a crown of glowing, branching horns grows from her head. Those eyes remain ever the same, focused on the blue lion before her.
The markings that are still bright down her back, her wings and through her feathers burn now in hatred for the Curse, for this situation, and for herself. And she is grateful that the eagle’s head of this shape does not display her emotions as easily because sadness is creeping in. Her voice sounds sure, though, as she uses what she has to tempt a Curse. “And they’ll be worth it.”
@[Gale]