[M] the blackest hole in all of space

Eris Eternity · 09-13-2011, 02:40 AM

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Word Count » 394

my road to hell is surely paved

She saw nothing in the fire. No shapes or shadows danced there for her. The flickering light crept forward from the fire, clutching beyond its reach and shrinking back again, too small to be anything more than a twinkling, pale dot from a distance. Perhaps she did not see because she did not want to see. Some distant and feral part of Eris understood the ritual and its meaning, but most of her stood steadfast, flatly refusing the bared truth. She would acquiese in the coming nights, lonely ones spent sleepless and tossing beneath the earth, when not even the warmth and strength of their remaining children provided comfort. Her conscious psyche rejected it fiercely for the moment, however, and she was no better served for this ritual.

Part of her now wished, in some sullen and desperate way, that she were a creature as Larkspur: dull and guided by instinct and foreknowledge alone. She might not have been so dilatory in the matter of Shibboleth; she would have been able to dispose of the girl as readily and easily as one throws away the cracked bone once all meat and marrow has been devoured. She was not Larkspur, however, and as quickly as this moment of jealousy seized her, it passed again. The man had his strength, but she did not lack for her own, and it was their opposing natures and complementary strengths that would strengthen the remainder of the children, too.

Neither of them moved, and after what might have been an eternity, Larkspur spoke, muttering words Eris could not begin to understand. The hybrid tilted her head ever so slightly, listening to the pause and subsequent sigh of wind. She felt the breeze tug and pull gently at her hair, tousling the fur of her body, and when it passed, she felt a strange sensation of lightness. It was undeniably queer and she thought it false at first, wrinkling her nose and turning it toward Larkspur, only to find he looked at her now, too. He seemed to be waiting; this drove a sharp barb of anger into the sable woman's side. What did he want from her now? If she was supposed to say something, she did not know what to say. She returned his gaze, just the barest edge of razor sharpness lingering in her chartreuse eyes.

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