[M] The Last Supper - OPEN POSTING

[Jeremiah Ezekial]

edit: =flails, edits!=

word count :: 688

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As the summer sun bled into twilight, a merle form rose from his knees to observe it with earthy eyes. He had just finished his evening devotional, though whether or not his prayers reached anyone's ears was still in question. Jeremiah had done much studying of his holy text in the past few weeks, and had yet to find a way for his feelings to come to terms with what he believed. He sighed heavily; at least he had a home now. He'd met with Eris several times since their first encounter on the beach, and she had taught him much of Salsola's ways. The whole thing made him vaguely uncomfortable, but he thought this was mostly because he was unused to a society not run utterly on religious principles. Regardless, it was his understanding now that he'd gotten himself into this, and it would be quite unwise at this point to try to remove himself; not to mention that, sacrilegious or not, the dark female had done Jeremiah a huge favor by allowing him admittance into her world, and it would be of utmost disrespect to turn that away.


His dark ears perked as a howl rang through the territory; this must be Sirius Revlis, to whom Eris had referred as the "Boss." Their bi-monthly feast was tonight, he knew, and it was time to begin. The male had prepared as best he could for the event, scrubbing himself and his simple attire until he gleamed. He'd even scrubbed down Black, who was currently tethered to a nearby tree; it hurt the young dog's heart to do it, but the sturdy equine was to be his gift to Sirius. He'd left Black's saddle on as an addition; what good was a horse without the tools to ride him? But the saddlebags containing his meager possessions had been removed and secreted away. Nerves afire, the mottled creature untied the black stallion's reins from his tether and started toward the direction of Borgata Colotl.


He paused as the light from the Ruins began to filter through the trees. He could see dark forms moving about in the firelight; he was one of the last to arrive. He tethered Black once more; Jeremiah would present his offering to the Boss after the feast was done, as Eris had explained the breach of etiquette that was discussing business during the feast itself. The horse snorted as Jeremiah gave him a final, friendly pat and continued toward the gathering.


It was with an uneasy stomach that he entered the clearing; laid out on the table was the feast, surrounded by the flickering flames of fire. It all had a very pagan feel to it; but, he reminded himself, this was the bed for which he'd made himself. Understanding that he was amongst the lowest ranked of the pack, not yet even considered Family, the shepherd straightened his simple white shirt and lowered his eyes to his footpaws. There was little conversation among those seated at the low table, and Jeremiah's mood joined the solemnity of the affair. As his eyes traveled the table, his throat dried up as he realized he'd neglected to ask Eris where, exactly, he was supposed to sit. Obviously not at the head of the table with her and the other leaders of this clan, but what if there was a specific order of which he was unaware? Finally, his gaze rested upon a silvery female with a striking, unusual blue mohawk, whose stature seemed less confident than those around her. This would probably be his best bet, he decided, stomach fluttering wildly. He unobtrusively slid in beside her, speaking no words but giving her a nod and a friendly smile, not daring to meet even her eyes as the brown male who must have been Sirius began to speak. Jeremiah's ears went back at the vehement speech the Boss gave; Sirius intimidated him, in a big way. The Boss gave the command to eat, but Jeremiah waited; it seemed to him that to begin eating before those who were higher ranked than himself may be frowned upon.