the sky above us shoots to kill

Citlali Kimaris · 05-07-2011, 01:32 PM

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Word Count → 444 ::

The cave was still dark under the earth. Faded golden beams of light pooled on the ground where holes and crevice’s worked away at the unique and exasperated tunnel system. Occasional breezes swept through the corridor, only turning up piles of dirt and spreading them along the wall bottoms. The torches burned through the night and continued to the morning, never resting except to breathe out raspy sigh that sent black shadows into the air.

He was awake, of course, when Tlantli stood and aroused her brother. Dull, lifeless green eyes stared away from his room entrance and towards what appeared to be another wall with a crescent shape excellently carved into its presence. It was small, barely the size of his palm, but brought him great pleasure. Boyish ginger-white hands were entwined in all kinds of threads and beads on his bedside though he made sure to make no noise while cherishing them.

They were leaving. Citlali knew before his ears sought out his aunt’s Hispanic words. He could feel her eyes on his orange back, dark with maroon but full of question – another decision being forced wordlessly upon him. The boy was still unsure of whether he should go. But he knew he had to. There was a slim chance he would survive mentally, if not physically, without his half aunt. When he heard them shuffle into the night, Citlali arose.

He packed little. With his bag finished early in the week, the green eyed coyote began to fill it with finished bracelets, woven in leather, reed, and white skin. The bag was inadequate but beautifully crafted with feathers adorning and traps and ties. Citlali removed all of his extra jewelry besides his two adored white bangles, obsidian pendant, and one dark blue feather which was tied behind his ear. No need to draw unwanted attention. With one last sweep of his sparse supplies, he was done.

It was chilled that morning, even as the sun outlined the earth in a rich warm yellow. Buds were blooming furiously and the soft green of spring sprouted everywhere. Citlali immediately wished Tlantli were with him. He fingered his moon bangle as Anathema territory passed quickly under his coyote paws.

After the border was behind him, more than not making him uncomfortable, it was easy to follow his half aunt’s scent. Miqui was with her, and it was almost like Citlali could taste his sour attitude. It was silent, so the ginger boy kept it that way. Upon arriving the state didn’t change. He held back, dark eyes searching the sea of slightly familiar faces.

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