filling jars full of silence.

Eris Eternity · 05-31-2011, 05:19 AM

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Word Count → 531

The hybrid listened to her words, even the battered and broken English still mellifluous in her strange accent. Tlantli's voice was spiced with that strange place that would never quite be home again, but had been for so long. It made Eris ache inside at times, and listening to her was one of these times. It was strange, homesickness juxtaposed against aversion of the very same place. She would never see Eterne again; even if she were to depart Salsola, however unlikely, it would not be to make for Eterne again. In truth, Eris did not know where she might go if she had to leave Salsola. There was no other place in the world for her, and she would be reduced to wandering until she could again seek her own place. It would not be one of her own, however -- she would have to wear someone else's yolk again, bound to someone else's rules.

“You speak truth, but I look on my children and see no weakness. They have my heart and my head, but Larkspur's strength, too,” she said, chartreuse eyes furtively glancing to the fire. He filtered them of their coyote blood and made them stronger, made them wolves -- but she would not speak such a thing to Tlantli. They were hybrids of the opposite type; Eris was mostly wolf, and she showed it just as well. Tlantli was mostly coyote, and she believed their superiority. Eris held no opinion on the intelligence of wolf or coyote, but it seemed apparent to her the physical size and strength to be found in Larkspur's species was superior. “I would have no one else's children,” she admitted, ears folding back into the wild tangle of her mane. She would not produce litter after litter of bastard half-siblings. Her children would all be of the same blood. That was truly what she valued Larkspur for. It was not his good conversation or his companionship that she sought -- it was his seed, his ability to give her children as precious and beautiful as her three.

“Would you confirm us, if I asked?” Her rank perhaps afforded her the ability to act without Tlantli's blessing, but she would do well to heed the golden-hue coyote, Auxiliary or not. Though she might perform the same rituals, her vision would be murky, clouded by her closeness to the situation at hand, and she would risk exposing herself to the woman's public distaste, should she choose to express it. Though curious, Eris did not look to Tla for her answer; instead, her gaze seemed focused on the fire, now dwindling for lack of unburned wood, and her hand stroked Itzcitla almost nervously. Already, it would seem being ostracized was a leitmotif of her life; she had been so in Eterne, too much of a hybrid to fully integrate into their religion, and she had been so in Inferni, too wolfish and too tainted to find a place there. Perhaps even Anathema, too, although perhaps Eris had crafted her own ostracization there, expecting it to happen and so forcing it to happen. She did not wish for the same to happen here in Salsola.

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