ready, set, don't go

Razekiel Lykoi · 09-14-2010, 03:55 PM

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Ah! So yeah, I didn't know you started this, I'm sorry. D: You might've sent me a PM and it just slipped my mind after I read it. X_x I am very forgetful. Do you want to post-date it to make it more recent? ^^

His name lingered in that voice. Why? What would a stranger want with a thing like he? To his side was his cozy little tent; to his front a small campfire, unlit but flooded with discarded joints nonetheless. Razekiel had been the prince in his swirling paradise until then, until his summoning tempted him from his daydream. A smoking something dangled between his lazy fingers, palm lloose and upturned on the ground beside him; against his back was a jutting rock, and had he not been so high, perhaps he would have noticed the ache in his back it brought him. Such things were hardly important then. He knew the voice, and yet he did not. Razekiel perked his ears to the best of his ability—they swayed and struggled to remain alert—and listened, but no further calls came. It was no mistake; they had called for him. Not his sunshine, nor his brother, and the rest of the clan hardly knew him. Who would demand his specific attention?

He climbed onto wobbly legs, gems and necklaces jingling with movement. A stumble, a near-trip, and he was on his way. Razekiel knew himself to be insignificant and useless to the real world but instead an extension of Mother Earth's hand, using the prince to spread her love and glory. He didn't mind. Of course he didn't mind. But very few saw his ways as appealing—most preferred to turn their eyes away from the peaceloving boy, the stain on the Lykoi name. Who needed him?

His staggering walk cleared clouds around his eyes; the effects of the drug began its lift as soon as he began to move. The coyote followed that sound, curiouser and curiouser as he went, until at last the sun broke through the clouds and he came upon his caller. From a distance he froze, eyes thinned, muscles locked; who was she? Terribly familiar, and yet foreign completely. Her hair done in flowers and love, her arms glittering with bangles. A spirit? Mother Earth herself? She possessed the beauty, for sure. A creature of Juniper Peace, come to find him? He panicked, but briefly. No—Juniper Peace could not orchestrate revenge. They would not hunt him down. No, he knew her. He knew this girl.

"Clover," the prince said, the name fluttering at his tongue like a bird. The last of his daughters, appearing all-too-suddenly like the rest. Would she, like China and Sage, simply disappear as well? Had she come to make peace? How had she even known him to be there? "Look at you, little girl, you've grown up," Razekiel said, his smile nearly nervous as it stretched across his face. No anger lay in her eyes; he was unthreatened. The prince sauntered on, tossed his finished joint over his shoulder, and opened his arms to her. "Little Love, you shouldn't be in a place like this. It is cursed with hate and war; there is blood in the air."

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