the flowers vivid as bandages

POSTED: Wed May 08, 2019 5:50 am

(264)

Thread Prompt: April showers bring May flowers! Make a flower crown or necklace to wear around Winterwynd!

To the surprise of nobody, Posey loved flowers.

She'd lived for the brief explosion of color over the tundra every spring, the bright purple-pink of saxifrage and fireweed and rosebay, the subtle white heather blooms, cotton and sorrel and campion and wintergreen. It seemed like a miracle that something so pretty could persist—even in the brief season—somewhere so harsh and cold. It was a celebration of survival, like the rising of the sun.

The old woman sat in a field now, smiling and tying stems together with shaky fingers. She'd found a patch of cute white flowers with yellow centers, though she wasn't for sure what kind of flowers they were. Asters, maybe, or daisies, possibly fleabane. She put one to her nose and inhaled deeply, then sneezed. Dewy with her spit, the petals wilted under the onslaught before she twisted its stem into a knot.

Even the sad, ugly little flowers made their way into the chain.

She eventually had enough for a pretty little crown, though she didn't like the look of white flowers against her white pelt; it made it obvious her fur wasn't stark white at all, though the creams in her coat were a mark of age rather than dirtiness—usually. There were some brownish spots around her joints where she licked and licked sometimes, and her feet were rather muddy, but that was just part of the adventure.

No, she needed a test subject for her little project, preferrably someone who wasn't as white as—

Oh, it was chamomile!

Last edited by Posey Prior on Mon Aug 19, 2019 8:48 pm, edited 2 times in total.

Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
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Raze
Luperci With Great Distinction

POSTED: Sat May 11, 2019 11:30 am

Things had changed since his brother's departure. It wasn't awful, not entirely – but there was a new edge to his life that forced Bennett to balance himself carefully. No trackers had come from the south, no witnesses who might soil his name, but the strange quiet was just as unbearable.

His father did not know the truth of his son's misery, but presumed its source other matters and went about as he had always intended.

It was meant to protect him, these hard-hitting lessons and grueling tasks, but Bennett often saw himself shooting that girl and thinking if he had been better she never would have survived. The failure haunted him and so urged on these brutal, unforgiving sessions.

The practice swords left bruises hidden beneath his plush coat, and the ache in his arms was invisible, but Bennett was restless despite these pains and roamed the wilderness in and around his home. Sometimes he was lucky and scared up meals, but today had been a lonely excursion and no worthwhile meat appeared before him. Reluctant to waste more energy beyond the borders he had begun traveling home, supposing if there was food to be found it would emerge – or perhaps he would be lucky and his father would have gone out for larger game.

A horse would make things easier, but Hobb was still too small and Linden was unwilling to part with Matilda and they no longer had the wealth to trade anything else.

It was selfish and lazy of him to want such a luxury when he had only wait, Bennett found himself thinking, for this self-reflection was part of the training too. He wrestled with these thoughts and let them go. Dismissing his feelings proved a far easier route than confronting them.

A white figure was settled in a tall meadow where the stink of flowers was overwhelming. Beneath it were other scents, like the wet-grass smell or the muddy earth beneath, but the aroma of the little blossoms was too strong to dismiss. Bennett was entranced by this, having only childhood memories of the season past. They had not left their home very much in those early months of his life. Afterwards, certain places and people became familiar.

Posey was one of these, and his old babysitter was approached without hesitation by the hooded wolfdog, who yapped a greeting as he neared.

when the wind blows, the grass bends
Mistfell Vale
Hawkesond
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Mel
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anger is a gift
dig two graves

POSTED: Wed May 22, 2019 10:32 pm

(224)

Posey beamed, though her old eyes scarcely looked up from her craftwork. She twisted another stem around with shaky fingers, then placed this in her lap, lifting her head and lolling her tongue at the youngster.

"Hello sonny!"

Her fluffy little charge had grown up so fast, she thought. She'd witnessed much of this growth as a caretaker and then as a observing packmate, once he came of age and joined the ranks as a Hawkesond (befitting an intense boy like Bennett)—but it seemed that something else had changed in him. He was still physically small, but shedding baby fat left his face narrow and foxlike, and his adult coat was thick and shaggy. He carried himself very differently these days.

Posey believed it was because of the loss of a confidant, a brother, gone to make his own mark on life (like Whimsy had, and oh hadn't Lyric been sad when her sister went away).

She was ignorant to all else. She believed the best of Bennett.

"Look what I'm makin'! Think this 'd fit 'round your noggin?" she asked, and hooked the flower crown around one finger, spinning it. Petals flew. It came undone, and she muttered a severe "fiddlesticks" and quickly looped the stem around again. "C'mere, your fingers are prolly nimble, help ol' Posey out."


Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
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Raze
Luperci With Great Distinction

POSTED: Wed May 29, 2019 11:21 am

No one really knew, Bennett thought. He imagined his father suspected things, but Linden was a private person. They didn't ever talk about feelings.

Without his twin, there was a missing piece. The silence left in the place of his former confidant was a terrible thing. He built more and more conviction as the days went on, but it was slow-going. Bennett was afraid of punishment. It was impossible for him to look at this as anything less than what had happened to his parents.

Death.

Death by exile.

He had lived, and he carried hate in his heart.

Yet here, under the gaze of the woman who had all but raised him, there was no thought of these things. He settled by her side, a small thing even now, as he would always be. Little by little, he filled out in some places and fell away in others.

Hi Miss Posey, he greeted her with a sound high and rolling, and the friendly wagging of his bushy tail. What are you doing? Here, he reached for the fragile crown and held it carefully. Which pieces go where?

The flower stems were woven and knotted, and some less well done than others, but Bennett could not be certain if one of these was more intended than another. He was a boy for whom the practical alone had been given value, and these artistic things were outside his fields.

when the wind blows, the grass bends
Mistfell Vale
Hawkesond
User avatar
Mel
Luperci
anger is a gift
dig two graves

POSTED: Sun Jun 09, 2019 2:00 am

(206)

Bennett settled beside her, and Posey only just resisted the urge to reach out and give his long, silky hair a friendly stroke. She hadn't raised boys, only daughters, but she recognized that growing youngsters liked their independence and didn't necessarily want an old woman coddling them like a baby.

Lyric was like that, or had been growing up; she still protested whenever Posey used her nickname or fussed over her, but her devotion was more telling.

"Makin' a lil flower crown, or necklaces if they're long enough, I suppose." She handed the little tiara over, grinning as he looked it over carefully. "This is just the first one, don't need t' be fancy. I needed t' know if I could remember how to do it! I used to make these all the time for my daughters, y'know, whenever the tundra bloomed. All the flowers up there were different."

She reached over and indicated with a claw where some of her knots had come undone. "It doesn't have t' be any partic'lar way!" She leaned back and idly plucked some other little blooms, gathering these in her lap as she watched Bennett.

"How've you been gettin' on, cherub?"


Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
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Raze
Luperci With Great Distinction

POSTED: Mon Jul 15, 2019 8:56 pm

It was just as well she did not touch him – he had grown less comfortable with it as he aged, recognizing new danger.

Posey didn't fall into this category, but she didn't move all that quickly either. Bennett was accustomed to her bony limbs and lank hair, and in many ways her presence was a calming one. For as long as he had known her, she had been his guardian. Now, older, his role had changed. He didn't entirely know what that was yet, but no one really pushed him about it either.

I'm fine, he told her without explanation. Expressing himself was still too difficult, and all the familiar aches of memory did not seem pertinent to anyone else. Inwardly, Bennett could wait out his own turmoil.

He knotted little loops, following her simple pattern, and little by little pieced together bits of clover and wildflowers within his reach.

Did you like traveling, before you came here? Bennett asked, only to soon add a small frustrated growl when he accidentally destroyed a flower's stem. He plucked a new one from his side and huffed. It just sounds so different everywhere else.

when the wind blows, the grass bends
Mistfell Vale
Hawkesond
User avatar
Mel
Luperci
anger is a gift
dig two graves

POSTED: Mon Jul 22, 2019 9:04 pm

He said he was fine, and Posey took his words at face value.

That wasn't to say she was a foolish or unobservant woman. Especially with her own daughters, she had often understood their moods before they did. Most times she played along, patiently waiting out their denials, until they decided to come to her and spill their tears and truths. It felt more respectful that way, letting them have their secrets and revealing them when they so chose.

Less familiar with Bennett, despite her longstanding presence in his life, she had no intention of pressing. She let herself believe him, because it was simplest, and drew her own conclusions about his recent withdrawal.

Posey chuckled as he growled, tearing a stem even with fingers smaller and more dexterous than her sometimes-arthritic digits, then sighed thoughtfully as she placed a new bundle of plucked flowers in her lap. Dirt dripped from the torn roots, and some of this smeared on her muzzle as she thumbed her nose thoughtfully.

"Reckon I did like a spot o' adventuring," Posey said, "but now that I think about it, most o' my adventures were close t' home. I've just had many homes, cherub." She smiled a little and pulled a little knot closed, not too tight. "This place ain't too differ'nt from Five Ponds, where Lyric was born. 's nice and quiet, though 'course I ain't been far from the Vale." She steadily formed a circle small enough for a bracelet, and slid this onto her skinny wrist, giving it an experimental shake.

"You would think up north was strange. The sun didn't quite set all summer, don'tcha know, or rise all winter. An' it was a long winter."

She dropped her hands into her lap, project forgotten, as she stared at the white-blossomed circlet forming in Bennett's hands.

"No, I'd say I didn't like travelin' when I was young, 'cos I thought travelin' was just chasin' ghosts a mile outside the den. But I had t' go north on account of I got married, y'know. Can ya really like a thing if ya don't choose it?"

[367]


Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
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Raze
Luperci With Great Distinction

POSTED: Wed Jul 24, 2019 1:58 pm

Bennett watched her work even as he went about his own. If he was patient, and gentle, the little stems could more easily bend beneath his fingers.

He could not imagine the sort of world Posey explained. Endless night and day would been a maddening thing. As he considered this he wrapped more and more flowers into his bundle, filling in little gaps and as he went. Bennett wondered if this sort of place she had lived was cursed, and further, if her time there had opened her to the spirit expelled from beneath the lake. More than that, though, the circumstances of the old woman's life seemed less than ideal.

Oh, Bennett gasped when he realized Posey's travels hadn't been of her own choosing. I didn't know you didn't...get to pick, I guess, where you went. He looked down at his hands and his crown, turning it to and fro as he looked for any missing pieces. That's kind of like what happened with my dad and us, you know. We didn't get to choose to stay. Not that we could have, he added with a little sneer that showed his teeth.

He frowned soon after.

Sometimes he wished he had killed that girl instead have just hurt her.

Deciding his crown was finished, he placed it upon his head. It sat cocked at an angle with one ear in and the other outside of its ring. Pleased with himself, Bennett turned to Posey and gestured to his head.

How does it look?

when the wind blows, the grass bends
Mistfell Vale
Hawkesond
User avatar
Mel
Luperci
anger is a gift
dig two graves

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