your father was a priest

Ezekiel de le Poer · 03-12-2011, 08:47 PM

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Books. Ezekiel’s smiled deepened, pleased. He had run into a great many people who did not respect such things, considering them useless human-things. There was power and knowledge in books, and there were a great deal many forgotten spirits that would only live through their ever-fading and ever-forgotten words. Marlowe had claimed a name for himself in order to keep a long-dead playwright alive. This was much the same with Gabriel, who had taken his children’s names out of a holy book that men had fought and died for. For Ezekiel, he saw all these things in books, which was why he sought them out. Odd for a boy that had all but grown up in the darkest stretches of the forest.

He did not miss the boy’s peculiar reaction, all too aware of the increasingly odd behavior. Though not dangerous, it was wrong; it was illness and the animal that he was feared it. Yet the broad-shouldered coyote simply smiled in his wayward way, blonde hair spilling into his face. “Consider it a gift,” he said, and rose to approach her. “They are your children, but we share my father’s blood.” The word brother was not said out-loud, though it was clear he intended it as such. Amber eyes focused on her emerald ones as he placed the book in her hands, warm and friendly despite their serration. The difference in their appearance was made clear in his mind; he was a tall, blonde man wearing a bow and carrying arrows in a wolverine-pelt quiver, scarred across the face and she was a pale woman with red hair and remarkably green eyes moving with a company of children.

An old fable crossed through his mind and was dismissed as he released the book into her healer’s hands.

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