01-25-2010, 05:31 AM
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Go sleep, silly! I just got up, uber sleepy too >< Word Count: 626 - SoSuWriMo His eldest daughter moved to sit with him, and as she further elaborated on this mysterious "bad weather", his mind repeated to itself a few times that she was really here. One arm moved to hold her shoulder, and the limb rested there comfortably, their bodies touching in some places where they sat on the narrow stair. He could not quite get over how she had come like a ray of sunshine to light up a very dreary morning, and a very cranky male. Though he knew he missed the presence of his family (he had grown up in a big tribe full of Amaras, after all), he had not realized to what extent he had done so before his daughter's face had suddenly appeared in front of him. Dawali would never ask any of his daughters to stay for his sake, even if he secretly wished they would, because he refused to be a parent that tried to guide his children in the direction he wanted them to go, rather than guiding them in the direction they wanted to go. In coming here, now, Asha told him that their wishes coincided, without needing to express it in words. Her actions stated that she liked it here, and she wanted to stay here, and so, with him. Knowing this, his world was a little more complete, and his smile was a little bit broader. As ever, Asha and Dawali's conversations quickly moved from playfully sending comments back and forth, to more philosophical or serious subjects. But then, usually, they would move effortlessly from that to again resume their teasing of each other. Their relationship was built on this conversation form, flowing from subject to subject, with elements of play in between. Sure, Dawali could have been that very serious and grave father that was wise and dependable only, but when he carried this deep love and fascination for children it would have been unnatural if he had not been playful. The red wolf enjoyed nothing more than to see the pleased smile of a child; his own in particular. But now he was not playing anymore, and he sighed and looked out in front of him as if thinking for a very short moment. "I don't know, Asha... Perhaps these are the trials that our people must endure in order to succeed in our search for a new and better life." Rarely did he speak with such heavy words, but now they were speaking of spirits, of fate and direction. He believed what he said, always, when his sentences took a dip into the realm of spirits. He was a priest, a Gola Watsi by profession. He could deal with the dead, and he knew what to do to ease that realm in that context, but he had no idea when it came to the larger picture. Perhaps he should know, for he was the Kalona, but his rank had been a thing of necessity, and he lacked the proper training beyond priesthood. In his own eyes, he thought he made a pretty good Chief, but of course there were some things missing from him compared to the silent grandeur that Ayegali had carried. There was no way Dawali could know these things, and he had asked Gvihita, who refused to answer. Asha had in all likelihood recieved a cold shoulder from her own guide if she had asked it; there were some things they refused to talk of. And so, the two only members here that had come from the original tribe could only cross their fingers and toes and anything else that could be crossed, and hope that their friends and family could at last, one day, set foot here — and stay and thrive. |