Word Count → 3+ :: http://soulsrpg.com/ipb/viewtopic.php?t=2&view=findpost&p=159495 >> go look c:
The girl was obedient, almost to a fault. Alaine had never seen her stand up for herself before - Not even to her younger sister, who had taken often to chewing on the ends of the girl's dainty white ears. The mother liked to think it was because of her daughter's naturally docile mannerisms, but in truth, she was relatively sure it was a lasting effect from her birth-mother. That, and the nervousness she constantly attributed to the child - an anxious fear of everything unknown, of everything changing. It worried Alaine greatly, the thought that her daughter may not be able to adapt. What would happen if, one day, Alaine was not there to protect her? What would happen to her darling Odette then?
She stifled such thoughts, focusing fully on the task of lighting the fire. It took a few goes, with the flint striking off stone and creating little sparks, until finally they caught on the dried wood and began to grow, dancing as little golden flames across the charred lumber. The small fire filled the room with gentle, warm light.
The girl's soft voice caught her mother's attention, and Alaine moved to sit cross-legged on the floor beside her. Floppy ears were attentive, but her emerald eyes remained on the dancing flames, deep in thought. "Yes, mo croi, they are. They will awake soon, but for now it will just be you and me, hmmm?" She smiled gently to the little one, gaze deviating from the now-crackling fire to pause lovingly on the little ivory child. My heart, my Odette. Her next question made the woman's brows rise slightly, a bemused expression crossing her exotic features.
"Fire, yes, although that is not what we call it," She paused, waiting to see if her daughter would recall, before continuing, "We call it bris. Repeat it after me, now, bris. Fire." She spoke in a firm tone, but not angrily - It was important that she teach the ways of the Macha tribe to her children, lest they die out completely. The ancient language had to be preserved. "I make the fire with the flint, and the spirit of the wood. When the stones make their spark of energy, it attaches to the wood-spirit, which then makes bris. Do you understand?"
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