Word Count :: 468 She's depressed but will snap out of it soon enough I think. >__> Also she's in optime.
She walked south, south across grassy beaches and through forests, until she could smell the oak and ash again and let her scrawny body collapse on the sweet-smelling earth. Her nose pressed between her forepaws, she closed her eyes and fought off the grief washing over her—though wasn’t this why she was here? Because some part of these woods held memory? Dully, Vesper looked up again to see the gaps in the trees where branches were bare were decreasing. Flower and leaf buds sprouted on twigs, softening the impression that the sticks were clawing at the patches of sky. Had it truly been autumn when they were here? Fall and winter had passed and it seemed like two more years of her life had.
For a second, she took hold of her twitching core and let her sore body transform. Her muscles protested as they stretched, and her legs wobbled as she attempted to rise onto them. Her sobbing in the mountains and her fast-paced travel to reach Ethereal Eclipse had taken its toll, and with a cry she collapsed on her back.
Vesper did not move. She did not deserve to move. Her chest heaved for oxygen as she stared at the breaks in the tree canopy, flashes of blue and yellow, sky and sunlight. And she wanted to cry again.
“Boy getting up,” came a scolding caw. Dark wings blocked the beautiful colors, and she might have leaped up to catch the raven had movement not ached so damn much. “Getting up!” Stark croaked again, his voice taking on such authority that she had to obey, she who obeyed only her Aquila. Her claws found the earth for purchase, and she managed to rise into a sitting position, which alone left her collapsed forward on her knees. She wrapped her skinny arms tightly around them.
“Why here?” Stark asked, suddenly perched on her shoulder. She had not the strength to shake him away.
“Blind didn’t die from a bear attack here,” Vesper answered.
The moment of solemnity passed long and languid, a cool river breaking over her back and bringing her away from the heat of her earlier conniption. And then her scouting shadow pecked the silver ring on her ear. She recoiled and growled at him, which made him flap down to the forest floor. He bobbed his head a few times as if searching for words.
“Stark and boy walking,” the bird said after a moment. She raised a brow. “Stark flying,” he amended with exasperation. “Stark praying boy finding something interesting, stop being sorry wreck.”
Vesper snorted, but his dryness amused her. She grunted as she pushed herself to her feet, grasping for a low tree branch for balance, and followed him as he flitted up in the safety of the leaves.
Image courtesy of venomxbaby@deviantart; Table by the Mentors!
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