of Character
ERIS SHOULDA PRANCED :| Ilu both
Misery had to admit a certain sense of jealousy. They were young and preparing for even more children. She was fairly certain each and every one of her own brood were gone. Poe and Samhain had no doubt perished, she knew with utmost certainty that Meth, Jude, and Rift had died. Three cursed souls, one last to a fire of her own hand, the other to a cruel river, and the third lost to a rusty nail. It all seemed laughable sometimes, but it was the laughter that turned into reckless, mad tears. The children with Anzu had been a mistake - he had been a slow witted, too gentle fool. But they had been left in Khalif long ago, and she thought of them rarely. Little Damien with his golden pelt and bright eyes had been the only one she had kept from that terrible place, his name made him precious to her. Nox was more than likely lost to the pyre, the little black female would have little reason to be spared. But she had made Ahren and Matinee's child the leader in her stead, hopefully Wicca would spare her cousin. The girl was soft that way.
"Lark, Eris." Misery's voice was bright and warm as she called out to them, an easy grin on her face. She would explain the ritual instead of simply performing it - the black wolves of Khalif were rarely allowed to learn the fertility rites. Most of the males were simply held down and forcibly neutered, but she supposed Larkspur's temper and large size had kept him safe. A few swift kicks normally took care of problems for the black females. The female rose carefully, wincing at the pain in her bad leg. She was too old for this shit sometimes, she swore. There's no pain where I am. She would join him one day.
"There's power 'n the number three." Those words were more for Eris than Larkspur, he would know that much. "The livin' rabbit is for Tak, he owns both of your souls. You want to appease him so he doesn't take them while they dream." Tak could snatch a child's life straight from the Mother's womb. He was cruel in many ways. "And the other two are for Ankh. You want her favor. We won't be doin' any offerings to Rah'khir, she has no sway over either of you." They belonged to Tak, the Silver Lady had no interest in them. But they could plead with Ankh and her gentle spirit might grant them another child bathed in white. Or she would whisper gentle words to her silver sister, and perhaps Rah'khir would claim them. "The two of you will be adorned with this," The golden ink was held up and gently sloshed around by her careful hands. "Then you'll throw the rabbits in the fire and repeat my prayer. Then you wait for me to leave before gettin' to business. There are some things I never need t'see Lark do." Misery shuddered, even she wouldn't go there. The unctuous fat of the rabbits would no doubt spark the fires well, but they could ignore the smoke for their rituals. "And for the next two days you need to get to couplin' in the day. Not at night. You wanna try your best to make sure they are conceived beneath Ankh's eye, not the devil-god's. So you leave her be at night, do you hear me Larkspur?" Quiet and scolding, her gold green eyes studied her son firmly.
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