Word Count » 392 (+3)
Oh, hehe, late Luna is late. Well...now, i was thinking that we could assume OOCly that the ritual was completed a few days later, so she could have some time to allow the wound to heal?
As one of us. The words made Xochime's chest grow bigger, her heart beating due to the expectance. The slightest hint of a smile danced in the corners of her lips, a gesture rarely seen on her, but which had been provoqued by her queen's own smile, which seemed to be charged with the affection of a mother for its family. Yes, the sensation of belonging felt really good.
The girl poked the same spot that she had pointed before, tracing with her claw the vague form of the ancient symbol that marked all the Salsolians as part of the pack. "Yes, aye wuld like eet there." She was about to stand up when the other asked if she wanted the marking ritual to take place there, but then she deemed the possibility. Eris' house would've been an ideal place to carry on the ritual, since almost anybody dared to disturb the sable woman, specially since her young spawn dozed off on it, vulnerable. Even if she had been allowed to enter the place, she would've felt the air too heavy, as if she did not belong there.
Taking a more confortable position among the weeds and the dirt, Xochime nodded at her leader. "Eet culd be done now, if you want to." But then, as she casted her gaze downwards -do not look in the eyes, stay low- her eyes fell on the outworn weapon. Then, she remembered that Tlantli's mark was actually a very big scar. How much damage had she recieved so the skin remained permanently and noticeably marked, the fur unable to grow there? The girl shivered as she thought about the pain. Sure, she had experienced pain before, but it had been by force. Right now, she was voluntarily putting herself in the range of an extremely sharp tool (if she was going to be scarred by a knife, that is). "Eet will hurt." Her accent-stained voice sounded a bit shaky, but the sentence was clearly a statement. She feared pain, true, but it did not matter much. Or at least that was what she told to herself to calm the anxiety. A light line was casted over her eyes when she looked up again, her eyes pleading the queen to carry on the ritual as soon as possible, before her survival instincts took over her resolve.
Flower Lives "Flower says" Flower Thinks
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