Just assuming he's in were form cause of the bag  sorry for the late reply, should be better now, delivered exam essay-thing today  oh and sorry, she's a bit emo at the moment  She just lost her litter >>Lying on the wooden floor offered by the structure of the harbor, Mew stared out to sea. She would have sat, but she couldn't, though in her current mood - or lack thereof - it wouldn't have been past her to sit anyway. Just to pressure herself even more to remember the pain she had in her heart. As if she could forget it. Every second she thought about it, all the time her mind circled around the night and its events a few days back. Even her broken family tree found no space for attention in her head. She felt pitiful, and she was. Beaten, her left shoulder-blade was still somewhat swollen, but her ear had stopped bleeding at least. Her face she hadn't seen in days. Not since after the attack anyways. And if she could see herself right now, she would notice how pale and weak she looked. She was weak, hell, it had taken her nearly 30 minutes just to manage to walk to where she was now. The walking had been a nightmare. She probably shouldn't be moving around, but rather be resting, but she couldn't find rest no matter how she tried, and simply lying in one spot all day didn't do her any good.
Når trollmor har lagt sine elleve små troll, og bundet dem fast i halen.. Da synger hun sakte for elleve små troll, de vakreste ord hun kjenner... Her eyes were as absent as her singing. It was not loud, and it was not in rhythm. The phrases just seemed to come out by themselves as her mind was preoccupied elsewhere. Oblivious of her surroundings, and herself, she failed to notice the smell of someone approaching. She couldn't care less if anyone did anyways. The crashing waves held no comfort this day, and maybe they wouldn't in the way they had used to ever again. All she had come here for... gone. Just like the waves disappeared into the big ocean; her life felt as if it had been torn away from her. She needed to rest, and then.. she didn't know what then. The lullaby that she hummed slipped quietly out of her mouth to be carried by the winds, last phrase consisting not of actual language, but that of a made up language that the mother in the song sung to her little ones. She had not chosen it consciously, but it fit her right now. Her children were sleeping now, she would sing them lullabies forever. O-ai-ai-ai-ai-buff, o-ai-ai-ai-ai-buff.. o-ai-ai-ai-ai-buff buff, o-ai-ai-ai-ai-buff.. |
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