07-22-2009, 01:24 AM
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700+
The woman made a soft sound of agreement, that indiscernible smile moving like soft light across her lips. But when he asked that question, her mind grew still. She remained silent, her gaze straying to the water’s surface, the light of day playing off the gentle ripples that came to greet her with gentle strokes. She watched the light play across the darkness of her fur, watched the light illuminate the woad of her fur. His question echoed in her mind, playing across her thoughts as the water across her body. The black female wanted to respond, to nod yes, but she did not and was still. How could she ask him to stay, to help her raise the litter that did not belong to him? Her quiet mind turned that question in the waters of her soul, a small rock that needed to be polished and smoothed, to be held as a cool weight in her hand. But time slowed and resisted her efforts.
She was ready to discard that shroud of blackness. But like soot it had settled within her, and like tar it stuck to everything that was touched. The blackness was stuck on her hands and blackened her fingers, and the purging waters of her own soul were not enough to rid her fingers of that blackness. With her other hand emptied, she briefly looked at it, those white orbs contemplative. It was as if she could see the tar on her, but there was nothing there. The black fae nodded and lifted her eyes as her hands lowered. "They will be ready soon," the soft melody replied with a strange certainty as if some wakeful Dream had whispered in her ear. The white orbs held his gaze reassuringly before she looked away and released him. She would not be stuck within the darkness that pulled her down. The warrior did not want such a thing to hinder her. But for now, she concentrated only on keeping that darkness from tainting the growing lives within her.
And upon the asking of her own question, a question that seemed to be the response of his own query, he was silent. As Onus caught the last fish, Cwmfen finished her last and was content. The woman was acutely aware of the silence and wondered what it was that kept him so. He rose from the water and sat beside her, his voice finally rising over the silence. The woad bound ears flickered as if straining to hear his words. She reached down to the water in silence, cleaning her hands before bringing a cupped hand, filled with water, to her lips. Strange, she thought, how the water was never the same. And then he was silent. "I...I’m nervous too," the woman admitted at length, straightening her posture as she continued to look out upon the quiet waters of the pool. Or perhaps she was afraid, a fear that was unlike any fear with which she was familiar. It was not a paralyzing fear, but a fear that was slow and steady, that caused the mind to worry, to be anxious and nervous. "I don’t know how either," she continued, "but I know that I must and that I will." But that did not seem to be enough.
"I cannot ask you to care for these lives," the soft melody said, addressing at last the question that he had spoken before and now, her hand moving across the woad marked belly, "that do not belong to you." There was a hardness in that melody as if suddenly she had thrown up defenses about her, although it seemed as if the hardness was meant not for Onus but for herself. The black fae had failed to protect her own body, and this was the consequence. But a gift, the Morrigan had called it. A gift. Slowly, almost tentatively, she moved to lean against him, a soft sigh breathed and the defenses allowed to fall. But she was silent as her head leaned against his shoulder, her eyes closing as she sorted through the many thoughts that confused her mind. "But," the warrior said suddenly, her voice nearly inaudible for the silence, "I would wish for you to be there." Was it selfish of her to ask? None of them were equipped for such a thing, but he had a choice. The litter within her had already been determined to be in her care. Onus did not have to burden himself with such a thing.
700+
The woman made a soft sound of agreement, that indiscernible smile moving like soft light across her lips. But when he asked that question, her mind grew still. She remained silent, her gaze straying to the water’s surface, the light of day playing off the gentle ripples that came to greet her with gentle strokes. She watched the light play across the darkness of her fur, watched the light illuminate the woad of her fur. His question echoed in her mind, playing across her thoughts as the water across her body. The black female wanted to respond, to nod yes, but she did not and was still. How could she ask him to stay, to help her raise the litter that did not belong to him? Her quiet mind turned that question in the waters of her soul, a small rock that needed to be polished and smoothed, to be held as a cool weight in her hand. But time slowed and resisted her efforts.
She was ready to discard that shroud of blackness. But like soot it had settled within her, and like tar it stuck to everything that was touched. The blackness was stuck on her hands and blackened her fingers, and the purging waters of her own soul were not enough to rid her fingers of that blackness. With her other hand emptied, she briefly looked at it, those white orbs contemplative. It was as if she could see the tar on her, but there was nothing there. The black fae nodded and lifted her eyes as her hands lowered. "They will be ready soon," the soft melody replied with a strange certainty as if some wakeful Dream had whispered in her ear. The white orbs held his gaze reassuringly before she looked away and released him. She would not be stuck within the darkness that pulled her down. The warrior did not want such a thing to hinder her. But for now, she concentrated only on keeping that darkness from tainting the growing lives within her.
And upon the asking of her own question, a question that seemed to be the response of his own query, he was silent. As Onus caught the last fish, Cwmfen finished her last and was content. The woman was acutely aware of the silence and wondered what it was that kept him so. He rose from the water and sat beside her, his voice finally rising over the silence. The woad bound ears flickered as if straining to hear his words. She reached down to the water in silence, cleaning her hands before bringing a cupped hand, filled with water, to her lips. Strange, she thought, how the water was never the same. And then he was silent. "I...I’m nervous too," the woman admitted at length, straightening her posture as she continued to look out upon the quiet waters of the pool. Or perhaps she was afraid, a fear that was unlike any fear with which she was familiar. It was not a paralyzing fear, but a fear that was slow and steady, that caused the mind to worry, to be anxious and nervous. "I don’t know how either," she continued, "but I know that I must and that I will." But that did not seem to be enough.
"I cannot ask you to care for these lives," the soft melody said, addressing at last the question that he had spoken before and now, her hand moving across the woad marked belly, "that do not belong to you." There was a hardness in that melody as if suddenly she had thrown up defenses about her, although it seemed as if the hardness was meant not for Onus but for herself. The black fae had failed to protect her own body, and this was the consequence. But a gift, the Morrigan had called it. A gift. Slowly, almost tentatively, she moved to lean against him, a soft sigh breathed and the defenses allowed to fall. But she was silent as her head leaned against his shoulder, her eyes closing as she sorted through the many thoughts that confused her mind. "But," the warrior said suddenly, her voice nearly inaudible for the silence, "I would wish for you to be there." Was it selfish of her to ask? None of them were equipped for such a thing, but he had a choice. The litter within her had already been determined to be in her care. Onus did not have to burden himself with such a thing.