[aw] may god have mercy

Ithiel de le Poer · 03-14-2012, 02:20 AM

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Ithiel is by Kitty!

Ithiel did not pray before others. It was not that he believed such acts were shameful -- on the contrary, Ithiel took a particularly proud joy in his belief and the love between himself and his greater master. But prayers were a special act to be shared with only the father above; mortals were not meant to share their prayer with one another. It was not as if Ithiel was restricted from speaking about any subject on which he prayed -- the man understood his God could provide only so much counsel, and so he must sometimes seek mortal ears and mouths to hear pleas and give words.

The man's head snapped up as the distant cry of a hawk caught his ears, half-obscured by the typical sounds of night. Were it the time of the sun, the dusk-colored coyote would have made no more note of the animal's cry than he had of the owls he heard previously. Ithiel knew, however, hawks were primarily diurnal creatures -- while not incapable of nighttime flight, their senses worked best with the aid of light, much like the owl was aided by the cover of shadow. Zedekiah was not so different than this. His eyes were poorer than a hawk's and nigh on useless during the nighttime.

Already on alert, the dark man then perceived a queer tapping sound, cocking his slim coyote's head with the addition of this noise to the night's orchestra. Flicking one overlarge ear, he shot a glance to Zedekiah, who peered in the same direction as Ithiel and with the same intensity. His meal forgotten to the side, the dust-colored man stood and slunk toward the clearing's edge, half-hunkering in the scruffy, sea-hardy scrub that grew along these parts. He saw the source of the sound making her way toward him -- a wolf, holding out a stick. His red eyes flicked to the sky and searched, and after a moment he saw a shadow pass before the stars. Following that shadow's movement, he determined it to be the hawk.

The dusky coyote stepped forward, up and out of the brush. A wolf without sight and alone can be a dangerous thing to be, he called. There was no threat to the Vigiles's voice, but he watched her with brief incredulity -- how bold she walked, just beside the drop-off into the ocean. Especially one wandering quite so close to the sea's edge, he added, still raising his voice to speak to her. He did not doubt -- or, at least, he hoped -- her ears were in working order, but there was still some distance between them, and Ithiel did not wish his words to be snatched by the wind.

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