With the Spirits to Guide Me

Tlantli Kimaris · 08-10-2011, 10:40 AM

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mall-caps;font-variantmall-caps;letter-spacing:4px;">THE SPARK OF DAWN

She was hunting. In the darkness, in the flatlands of her new home, she was seeking the body that would pacify her sun God in the hours to come. Momotztli had no preference of time. Momotztli would see her offering at any hour. Somewhere, He was watching. Somewhere, He was proud of her. A stone whizzed through the air, striking a simple and passive rabbit in the head. There. What would become a kill started as an unconscious, bouncing creature. The process was an easy one, removing the organs and burning the body — it was dirty, but oh-so-easy, and made her feel better when it was over.

As she leaned to gather her catch, the most peculiar thing rang out through the Salsolan air. A summoning call. Someone was looking for something. Fire eyes narrowed as petite features sought the borders in the distance. Who approached? Who had a desire to do so? The last person she had seen near the borders of Salsola was that foolish trespassing girl — she should have killed that girl, and then maybe there would be no presence now. Slender legs carried the petite shape of the Crone across the earth, rabbit dangling by its long and floppy ears. Where were they?

It wasn't hard to find the woman who had evoked the presence of the shaman coyote, for she stuck out in the darkness with a pale eye. Bearpaw-covered fingers curled, one hand moving to shift the skull of some large canine over the inward pointing arrows to hide it from view. She was an outsider. There was no reason she should witness it. "Stayte your business, womahn." There was no reason to be civil, or cordial, or kind. She had approached Salsola of her own free will — there was no expectation of consideration.

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