you won't ever save your soul

Larkspur D'Angelo · 12-15-2010, 12:02 PM

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He had done everything in his power to ensure that things were easy for her. He fed her, he gave her the space she needed, he slept next to her and night and shared his warmth. Ultimately though, whatever happened was not under his control, nor even his to aid. Larkspur had been lucky today. During his never-ending attempts to stay away from his family, he had begun exploring the mountain range. It reminded him of the Khalif, in a small way, and he was familiar with it. Hunting had proven a unique challenge—but he had quickly learned that height was the advantage. A precise jump was all it took to startle the goat, and all it took to kill it was one sharp twist of those billy-goat horns. No blood.

Said goat, now a still-warm carcass he carried on his shoulders, would be enough to feed both of them. Larkspur was pleased with himself. Large feet carried him through the maze of passages that led towards their den, and it was then he caught the scent. Blood. Something else, something he did not recognize but knew, and he stood still for several moments and his mind went mercifully blank. It was then that the can tah spoke of the coming prophecy, and echoed Misery’s words about his children. He knew. Suddenly and ultimately he knew.

With enough noise to make himself known (unintentionally of course, Larkspur was not made for silent movement) the burly Tuyul passed into the mouth of the cave and found her with four children. Three she held close, and the fourth remained still, but still breathing. It was the three he was interested in—one black, one mottled, one a dingy white. Of course. He lowered the goat to the floor and made his way to her side, settling near the dark woman on his belly, like a large and awkward dog.

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