10-26-2009, 04:55 PM
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^_^ Wc: 450++
In order to fully understand just how Ghita was feeling at that moment, one would have to look past the normal anxiety that naturally came from having the father of her pups and her sister square off. To add to the complication, Ghita wasn't all too sure just how she felt about carrying pups again. She knew how she felt about her sister, was beginning to understand how she felt towards Jazper, but carrying the pups was a whole other story in itself.
Sure, there was the normal fear that any expectant mother felt. The fear of tripping over something and ruining her unborn litter, fear that there would be something terribly wrong, and fear that there was nothing she could do to prevent anything going wrong. But there was also the excitement that couldn't be denied, the mere fact that there was life just below your stomach sent any fae careening on the emotional rollercoaster that came with Ghita's condition. But in the silver-tipped fae's case, there was past precedent to be observed, recognized, and fled from at all costs.
So she held her tongue. Beautiful turquoises drifting back and forth almost unwillingly in between the two quarrelers, or her sister and the male under assault. Her slender ears twitched uncomfortably as she turned away, uncomfortable at being the 'it' in the conversation, and at such an impersonal way too. 'It', 'her', 'she'. A small hiss of air escaped her rib cage and she looked up from half-closed eyelids at both ebony wolves.
Ghita was about to open her mouth, to deny that she was physically hurt, but found herself metaphorically ducking as the javelins were hurled from her sister. Her eyelids closed tightly, some small attempt to shield herself as Savina plowed forward, the swear words ringing in her ears - the characters too unfamiliar when sprung from her sister. But even at the mention of the act that Jazper and Ghita had willingly performed (willingly used loosely when applied to alcohol), she couldn't help but feel her stomach plunge as she heard the repercussions.
And then the topic turned to Ghita's own past, the pathway she was not ready to travel down this early. She rose to her paws suddenly, fire sparking behind too-tired optics. "Savina. Enough." She stood smaller than Jazper, and only an inch or so smaller than Savina, but she made every attempt to control the situation now. Savi, non ci per favore. Non ancora almeno." Her tail hung low as she was unwilling to meet Jazper's eyes. No one outside her family knew about the last litter she carried. (Unless her tale was spun by her relatives) For now, at least, the fae wanted to keep it like that.
^_^ Wc: 450++
In order to fully understand just how Ghita was feeling at that moment, one would have to look past the normal anxiety that naturally came from having the father of her pups and her sister square off. To add to the complication, Ghita wasn't all too sure just how she felt about carrying pups again. She knew how she felt about her sister, was beginning to understand how she felt towards Jazper, but carrying the pups was a whole other story in itself.
Sure, there was the normal fear that any expectant mother felt. The fear of tripping over something and ruining her unborn litter, fear that there would be something terribly wrong, and fear that there was nothing she could do to prevent anything going wrong. But there was also the excitement that couldn't be denied, the mere fact that there was life just below your stomach sent any fae careening on the emotional rollercoaster that came with Ghita's condition. But in the silver-tipped fae's case, there was past precedent to be observed, recognized, and fled from at all costs.
So she held her tongue. Beautiful turquoises drifting back and forth almost unwillingly in between the two quarrelers, or her sister and the male under assault. Her slender ears twitched uncomfortably as she turned away, uncomfortable at being the 'it' in the conversation, and at such an impersonal way too. 'It', 'her', 'she'. A small hiss of air escaped her rib cage and she looked up from half-closed eyelids at both ebony wolves.
Ghita was about to open her mouth, to deny that she was physically hurt, but found herself metaphorically ducking as the javelins were hurled from her sister. Her eyelids closed tightly, some small attempt to shield herself as Savina plowed forward, the swear words ringing in her ears - the characters too unfamiliar when sprung from her sister. But even at the mention of the act that Jazper and Ghita had willingly performed (willingly used loosely when applied to alcohol), she couldn't help but feel her stomach plunge as she heard the repercussions.
And then the topic turned to Ghita's own past, the pathway she was not ready to travel down this early. She rose to her paws suddenly, fire sparking behind too-tired optics. "Savina. Enough." She stood smaller than Jazper, and only an inch or so smaller than Savina, but she made every attempt to control the situation now. Savi, non ci per favore. Non ancora almeno." Her tail hung low as she was unwilling to meet Jazper's eyes. No one outside her family knew about the last litter she carried. (Unless her tale was spun by her relatives) For now, at least, the fae wanted to keep it like that.