butterfly in the wind//

[Palindrome de Sadira]

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All welcome, I would prefer a DDM member though. He's a bit emo.

word count: 423

And there it was, a tiny flutter of movement that had just caught the underdeveloped eyes of the youthful Palindrome de Sadira. A soft glow seemed to emit from around it, making the bleak little cavern that he snuggled into to avoid the onslaught of rain seem just a little less depressing. He could hear the distant battering of rain course through the lands, as well as the very close trickle of dripping water and the very wet situation that he seemed to be apart of made this little creature ethereal in some sense - untouchable. It rested so peacefully against that slate hued rock, it's normally vibrant colors dimmed with the monotone scene. So naturally, Palindrome with his soft curiosity and wondering demeanor wanted nothing more than to understand such a quiet glow around such a small thing. His bulky brown paws seemed to stumble over himself as his thin, lanky body made its way towards the butterfly. But upon the sudden wolf pup moving, the insect lifted itself from the rock, instantaneously shattering the peaceful and serene moment.



Palindrome, with his large puppy eyes furrowed in confusion, he reached out with his disproportionate paw to keep the thing on the rock. The butterfly's response was a frantic one, flitting from one side to the next, desperately attempting to avoid the large limb swatting at it. Brilliant small colors in a blur as it wrenched itself towards the opening of the cavern, and immediately Palindrome went after it. All he wanted was the moment back, all he wanted was the butterfly to stay with him, to look at the butterfly in all of it's soft and precious glory. His bottle-brushed tail swished agitated, his big eyes following the torrents of the insect's flight. Within seconds it seemed caught up in a draft of cold wind, pulled out from the safety and solace of this little cavern and plunged into reams of rain. The brown puppy followed, but stayed close to the ground's opening, watching helplessly as the little butterfly fought with all it's strength to defend itself against weather but to no avail. Soon enough the butterfly was completely smashed into the ground, indistinguishable from the rest of the mud and grass.



Palindrome waited a few minutes before walking over to the last remnants of such a beauty. Digging his paws into the ground, he pushed his stomach flat against it, pretending that he was being beat by the rain ahead, and that he too may be smashed just like that butterfly.

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[Cercelee]

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.... Like playing dead, Cercelee lay next to her sleeping mate unmoving, scarcely breathing. The only real sign of life from the Rosea was the occasional blink of her eyes as she watched the piebald male breath heavily in his sleep. In and out went the breath, up and down went his chest. This wasn’t the first time she caught herself doing this, wondering what dreams Slay had in the long hours he slept, but even so she was ashamed to catch herself doing it at all. The male beside her slept often, increasingly so ever since his attack by Corvus, and Cer more and more waste vast amounts of sleep watching him. She watched him before she went to sleep herself, and again when she awoke, and even during the day when she just happened upon him. In their bedroom of the church, asleep. It was where he always was, and where Cercelee too seemed to find herself much of the time. ....The crash from the rooms of the church were quite audible and Cercelee raised herself, alive once again, and furrowed her brows. The puppies. The de Sadira children. Her wards. Her children. Despite the lack of activity from their surrogate father, they were as active as ever, Avarice and Roulette rambunctious and rowdy, Catalyst and Palindrome thoughtful but still a handful. Extracting herself from the blanket of depression Slay cast over the room, Cercelee made her way slowly through the kitchen, the back room of the church, and then into the main hall, where years ago people worships but now puppies played. On the floor was a tin collection tin and coins, now useless in a world where money meant nothing, and no sign of the careless children who had spilled them just moments before. The large wooden door was ajar and the rain came in where the children must have gone out at. ....Outside she didn’t even bother to track the two, knowing Avarice and Roulette did not care to be found, but instead moved along at a leisurely pace, her pelt soaking through and that was perfectly fine. The summer air was warm, so despite being wet she was not cold. Cercelee passed the vineyards that surrounded her home and was soon to make her way to Wolfville had she now scented Palindrome by chance. It was harder in the rain, the scent being washed away rapidly, but soon enough she was at the entrance, looking in, at the tiny male crouching. Seemingly pressed there by some force Cercelee could not see. "Palindrome? What are you doing?"

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