Sorrow is like a dying rose
#1
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Word Count :: 000


Imhotep had gone to be with Odessa the day that they sent her uncle off. He was not sure as too what he needed to do around the land with the attacks and the minor wounds that he had suffered he was bored. the clinic was done and he was with nothing to do. He felt bad for Eris and all the others over their loss he had never really met the man but had seen him in passing.

Odessa was sad and somewhat hurt by the loss and it was a pain not even the spiritual egyptian could heal. He was not sure how his ebony leader was doing after all she was this mans mate. He knew she could not be doing well even their children oh the poor things. Imhotep tightened his grip on his bag there wasn't really much in it but the thought of pain that he couldn't heal and it broke his heart. It could have been him or anyone else. Oddessa could have been without him what would she have done?

He moved closer to where the leading female lived almost slowly he hadn't even thought of what to say. most things would be stupid. He almost pivoted and turned away. But he was family and maybe he could ask her for the mark maybe causing him pain would ease hers? He was unsure, he did not intend to just ask that he intended not to unless he thought it might help. He stood there for a moment and in the nicest voice he called out. Eris are you home? It's Imhotep may I join you? Standing there he barely took in air.

Image courtesy of I don't know o.o; table by the Mentors!

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#2
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(413) Would you mind if we backdated this sliiightly? Say April ~22 - 24? If that works for you. C:



Eris is by Savannah!

It had rained last night, just before dawn broke. Eris had been awake, gazing listlessly out of her ruins and into the dark world beyond when the clouds broke, bringing with them a torrent of thick rain. Though this downpour soon tapered into a more slight precipitation, the rains had not let up until well past the morning. The day was long, gray, and dull, as were all since Larkspur died and perhaps Harrow, too. Eris had retreated some hours ago into the more private region of her den, when the rains stopped and Salsolians were more likely to come calling.

I had not realized -- I could not have known -- why didn't I -- Her thoughts died midway through, ever unfinished. There were no words she knew in this language to describe the rotten ache that had permeated her since her mate's death. Though she had not slept the previous night, when Imhotep came to her door, the sable-shaded woman was still mostly awake, buried in the underbelly of her den. Even her daughters were going, moving off, slowly becoming adults. She'd given away the Salvador child, and only Amini kept her company. Even now the small cat curled up around her head, little paws kneading into the dark woman's head as she half-dozed.

The sable-hued woman debated ignoring the foreigner entirely, for she was in no mood for anyone's consolation -- those she might have wanted had their own lives to attend to, and she did not begrudge her remaining daughters their budding independence. They were not altogether absent from the sable woman's life, in any case -- it was not as with Wretch. Drawing a breath of the stale den air, the dark woman opened her chartreuse eyes and climbed from the den. Though her private quarters could fit a crouched Luperci, the small opening was not as comfortable in the two-legged form, and Eris seemed to prefer the natural form these days, shade of her tiny corner of the ruins she was.

Come in, she commanded, pale eyes glancing to the hunkering figure of Sandalio. The owl opened one brilliantly gold eye, glaring at the both of them for interrupting his sleep. He shat -- which, to Eris's faint relief, missed Imhotep entirely -- and promptly went back to sleep. The dark woman did not even offer the surly bird a scowl as she might have normally, only glowered toward the golden canine expectantly.

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#3
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Word Count :: 000Thats fine with me he has a sloppy time line so dates are in the air Smile


His hair braided he stood in silence temped just to leave. After all he must be interrupting the ebony leader. Imhotep Still fought with minor pains from the low class wounds he had gotten. Most of what he had revived were deep bruises that would take time to heal. His mare she suffered some cuts and damage that he had to wrap.

The silence at the entry way to his leaders home held an eerie feeling. The whole land held that feeling at times but he felt at odds. The loss of one so close like a mate or a child was something that. She would most likely want to be alone but he could not help but want to talk or help her. A voice from within held power a power that compelled him to do as he was told. Opening the door way he moved into the home of the leader.

Looking at her he bowed golden eyes hitting the floor. I came to bring you a foreign trinket He spoke looking back up at her. He was careful not to look directly into her eyes but at her.

Image courtesy of I don't know o.o; table by the Mentors!

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#4
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Eris is by Kiri, a gift from Sylvey!

The golden-hued dog stank of old wounds and salves, but were those not pleasant smells, when compared to the rot of the grave? The dark-furred woman felt an unexplainable stab of jealousy at the slim canine's presence and continued life while her Larkspur was dead and in the ground. I would have traded all of Salsola for his life, she thought bitterly, and knew it was true -- perhaps her children were exempt from this, but family was not Family, as she had come to learn.

Perhaps she ought to have complimented his wounds and praised his service, but she merely gaped at him with a hardened stare. She did not feel like being cordial or social -- in all truthfulness, she rather felt like stripping the skin off something. Molcaxitl was not around, though, and she could not truly harm Imhotep or any other professing loyalty to the family. And so, she stood, staring expectantly toward the slim gold dog. Yes? she prompted, wondering what might fill the hole Larkspur's loss had drilled through her. Chartreuse eyes were narrowed, burning with anger at the unfairness of the whole wide world.

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#5
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Word Count :: 000http://www.thefakebusters.com/statues/ph...%206b1.jpg Image link.


No trinket or pretty stone could fill the void that loss can make. He knew this but at least he could provide some form of distraction. That in itself was worth something not much but something. He cared not about the battles that Salsola was still fighting. Those who fought had chosen their path, and though he too had fought he had come out lucky. he was able to come home to odessa and nurse his wounds.

Imhotep knelt infront of the dark furrned woman. Slowly pulling from his bad a broken and beaten statue. The Anubis Statue was something that he had tried to save but the thing had been beaten on his trip here Its Anubis the god who protects the dead. He said looking at her. I figured you could add it to your collection. no one else deserves it as much as you do. He spoke. He did not move from his knelt position.

Image courtesy of I don't know o.o; table by the Mentors!

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#6
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(377) Could have them get drunk like you suggested?



Eris is by me!

She wanted to kill, in all truth -- she wanted to tear and rip their attackers to bloody pieces herself, but she knew better than that. She was not skilled in the ways of combat, and if Larkspur had died defending them, what hope did she have? Eris would simply be another corpse piled atop other corpses. Still, her anger could not be directed against those of her family. Imhotep was not insulting her or offending her. Though her anger and her sadness were deep, she pulled herself together nonetheless, burying it down inside of herself. She would have the rest of her life to deal with it.

Her face softened accordingly, and she exhaled slowly, the tenseness draining from her with that breath. Her hands extended to take the statute -- it was beaten and old, from the time of people, but more ancient than the recent century, she thought. Peering over it with chartreuse eyes, she tried a smile. It was a faint thing, barely showing on on the dark fur of her muzzle, but she nodded toward Imhotep with a tiredness uncharacteristic of Eris Eternity. Stand, my dearest, she said, placing the statue in the alcove of things she owned. She set a piece of the quartz chiseled from Anathema's caves at the statue's feet, her own offering to this protector of the dead. For Larkspur, she thought at it, and turned back toward Imhotep.

Thank you, she responded. I am sorry to treat you so, but you understand my position, I'm sure, the hybrid said, speaking with the calm courtesy of one capable of brushing aside such misbehavior with a wave of her hand. Her chartreuse eyes peered over her own belongings, looking for something to return the gift and appease him. They fell upon the bottles of alcohol procured from the storage room. There were but two, but she'd taken her favorite kinds of liquor from the cellar -- a deep red wine, its taste faintly reminiscent of earth and summer sun, was what she reached for. Would you drink with me? she asked, grabbing hold of the bottle and showing it to her companion. The label was half-gone, but the liquid inside was visible through the deep green glass.

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