i am not alone

Larkspur D'Angelo · 03-13-2011, 12:30 AM

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Each word she spoke was the truth. Misery had lived far too long for Larkspur to doubt she had not seen the world, and she bore the proof in a pelt turned from soot to snow. His orange eyes gleamed at the mention of Tak’s vengeance, and Salvia’s widened. She understood. Her father, chosen by the dark and terrible god, had been the one to strike down the dying boy. Tak had chosen Larkspur then, and he had used his body to defend holy children. The scarred wolf’s face betrayed this as he stared at his aunt-mother, though he would not tell her here. She would learn soon enough.

Pleased by her words, Larkspur’s chest swelled and the white-bird mark on his chest became pronounced. Oblivious to her father, Salvia cocked her head at the mention of being marked. Protection from the goddess. She smiled, ignorant of what “marking” entailed. After all, her father had marks, and so did her mother—they had to be good things. The question of a holy tongue puzzled her, and a look was given to her orange-eyed father. Larkspur smiled down at his daughter. “Ah don’t use it ‘round here much. Yer not s’posed ta use it n’less it’s fer ritual.” A pause. He looked up to his taller elder. “Are y’staying?” There was hope in his voice, but not a whine or a plead. He knew better. She was the leader of the Khalif, and as such, he worried that these demands would take her home.

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