B e l o w Z e r o
keep me please, sister, when you cry
i feel your tears, running down my face
Bel was enjoying the time with her sister.
Sure, she was tired, wanted a nap, but . . . time with Pol was rare. Fragile. Fleeting. She smiles faintly at her sister's remarks on her magic, her tail swishing through the reeds of the swamp with a small, but pleased smile, "I've been training hard, determined to master it. I am grateful for all the help and assistance that Yuki has been offering me as well." She mused, before tilting her head in surprise at her sister's question.
For a brief moment, Bel's gaze shutters closed.
It's like a cautious mask, as she thinks how to answer, "No . . . the pod didn't have much in the way of healers. The pod . . . was wrong in many of their beliefs, they'd lost there way long ago . . . but they had a horrid belief of any sort of illness being a weakness, and such weakness needing to be cast out." It's why they had abandoned Pol. It's why Bel had abandoned the pod. "They believe only the strong can survive, and for the betterment of the pod, anyone who could present a weakness to be cast out."
It hurt her heart to see how her people had strayed from their paths.
"It's not the way that The Empress wanted us to be. Not the life, the meaning we were crafted for." There was a pause, a very long one, as she turned to her sister, "But . . . originally, Treaders had all sorts of types. Mages, and Healers, Scholars and Protectors. Fighters, and Lovers. We were a powerful, strong and loyal people." Bel's gaze raises to the skies, almost imagining she's looking upon their homeworld, of the powerful force that ruled that land, "One day, I hope we'll be like that once more." Proud of what the pod was capable of.
But she was not expecting her sister to fall apart. The tears fell down her sister's cheeks. She laughs gently at her sister's question, "Mama wouldn't care if you were a healer or pond scum. As long as we live life happily, and fully; that was all mama needed to be happy, and proud of us. She'd be so proud of everything you had accomplished." Her sister questioned the nickname, but Bel had frozen when she'd used it, her muzzle opening and closing a few times, "Mama . . . used to call you that." She admitted after a long, long moment.
And then, she offered a distraction at her own expense.
She wrinkled her nose as her sister made the collections, wincing at the reminder of what she'd said so long ago - unaware of how he had actually felt, how she'd broken him with those words, "I didn't know how he felt then!" She retorted, embarrassed, "I had thought we were just friends, close friends . . ." Her smile softens, crinkling gently around her dual eyes, "I'm glad we're so much more now though."
"Bel"
Yukime
@Polar North
Notes:: Really awkward, struggle of a writing. Haha. Sorry.
Sure, she was tired, wanted a nap, but . . . time with Pol was rare. Fragile. Fleeting. She smiles faintly at her sister's remarks on her magic, her tail swishing through the reeds of the swamp with a small, but pleased smile, "I've been training hard, determined to master it. I am grateful for all the help and assistance that Yuki has been offering me as well." She mused, before tilting her head in surprise at her sister's question.
For a brief moment, Bel's gaze shutters closed.
It's like a cautious mask, as she thinks how to answer, "No . . . the pod didn't have much in the way of healers. The pod . . . was wrong in many of their beliefs, they'd lost there way long ago . . . but they had a horrid belief of any sort of illness being a weakness, and such weakness needing to be cast out." It's why they had abandoned Pol. It's why Bel had abandoned the pod. "They believe only the strong can survive, and for the betterment of the pod, anyone who could present a weakness to be cast out."
It hurt her heart to see how her people had strayed from their paths.
"It's not the way that The Empress wanted us to be. Not the life, the meaning we were crafted for." There was a pause, a very long one, as she turned to her sister, "But . . . originally, Treaders had all sorts of types. Mages, and Healers, Scholars and Protectors. Fighters, and Lovers. We were a powerful, strong and loyal people." Bel's gaze raises to the skies, almost imagining she's looking upon their homeworld, of the powerful force that ruled that land, "One day, I hope we'll be like that once more." Proud of what the pod was capable of.
But she was not expecting her sister to fall apart. The tears fell down her sister's cheeks. She laughs gently at her sister's question, "Mama wouldn't care if you were a healer or pond scum. As long as we live life happily, and fully; that was all mama needed to be happy, and proud of us. She'd be so proud of everything you had accomplished." Her sister questioned the nickname, but Bel had frozen when she'd used it, her muzzle opening and closing a few times, "Mama . . . used to call you that." She admitted after a long, long moment.
And then, she offered a distraction at her own expense.
She wrinkled her nose as her sister made the collections, wincing at the reminder of what she'd said so long ago - unaware of how he had actually felt, how she'd broken him with those words, "I didn't know how he felt then!" She retorted, embarrassed, "I had thought we were just friends, close friends . . ." Her smile softens, crinkling gently around her dual eyes, "I'm glad we're so much more now though."
"Bel"
Yukime
@Polar North
Notes:: Really awkward, struggle of a writing. Haha. Sorry.
![[Image: i-jTNwWx8.png]](https://photos.smugmug.com/BelowZeroNovus/n-X9d9fZ/i-jTNwWx8/1/e09fb6c3/O/i-jTNwWx8.png)
