the colors of the mad and the wicked

Eris Eternity · 01-26-2012, 05:15 PM

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Eris is by Kiri, a gift from Sylvey!

Eris was perhaps not the most attentive mother on the wide earth, but she did earnestly try. She provided her sons and daughters with love and a warm home, and treated each like the little princes and princesses they were. This had given her two lovely adults thus far -- Pandemic and Salvia -- and one -- well, Wretch. Her palest daughter did not remember any of her family; whether she had willfully done so (as Salvia seemed to believe) or whether the memories had been stolen from her, Eris could not say. Ataxia, Artemisia, and Harrow were growing quickly, as well. They were nearing their six month and would begin to shift. And her beautiful, lovely Basilaris -- what a man he would make when he passed into adulthood.

She did not notice his reaction to the whisper, and in fact seemed more interested in Molcaxitl now that she'd said her piece. She seemed to study the girl a long moment, perhaps contemplating ordering her to straighten her posture. In actuality, she considered Antykk, glancing at him earnestly from the corners of her chartreuse eyes. When he spoke, she came to attention slowly, as if what he said did not have her riveted interest. It did, oh -- of course it did. Disappointment flooded her at his words, though it was quickly replaced as the coyote realized he had not spoken in rejection of her offer, but consideration. She took in the rest of his words with interest, though she was eager for time to pass and for this man to be at her borders already, if indeed that was his decision in the end.

Oh, you needn't do a thing now, dearest Antykk, the coyote said, feigning surprise. If you were to call upon our borders in hopes of finding a home, simply bring a gift -- some simple trifle, nothing extravagant. Unless, of course, you feel the need for extravagance, the woman explained, shrugging one shoulder as if indifferent. I do hope you find our ways acceptable. If not, ah -- the best for you, then. She smiled and inclined her head toward him, turning her attention once more to Molcaxitl. Trader, Molcaxitl -- say your good-byes to the nice man, the coyote prompted, addressing the horse before the slave. It was lovely to have met you, the coyote added, again to the scarred wolf before her. Take care of yourself.

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