[AW] EL FIN {relic}

[Nora]

Recovery is spent among the gentle titans; fields of springtide flora seduce us, nursing our diseased memory of the winter valley we forsook. Jaws shred into the prosperous reed; absorbing the energy they offer, restoring and refueling my deprivation. Nestled between pastel and gold, the stunning, itsy miracle of our labor…and though I’ve explored every square inch of her tiny, exquisite frame, my eyes scarcely abandon the cherub – they fall continuously upon her. Miette is an endless source of fascination; fuel for disbelief…how could such a beautiful soul have come to us? Between hearty mouthfuls, my lean crown bends in her direction; exploring, inhaling those shallow, sweet curves for impudent debris. Tender lips sooth frizzled down upon her pristine, tri-colored hide. Life with our newborn is a breathtaking, discolored smear of sunrises. My orientation into that messy, awkward stage of motherhood gave us the excuse to spend the majority of this past week adjusting in relative peace. During that time, neither of us dare approach the bloodied line of reality; neither would give life to the nightmares behind us. Heavy regret silences my grief for that violent uprooting...though the memory of alien screams and merciless terror is smothering in the backdrop. These lips wouldn’t utter a word of disapproval for our circumstance…how could they? The lure for that wretched danger lingers beneath the awn of an eagle… …because of me, those demons now ride upon the innocent... My subconscious arches her figurative brow, unimpressed with my sorrow for strangers, ‘you pity them?’ We’d made neither friend nor foe in that dished out valley…but that didn’t mean this heart didn’t feel the crushing weight of shame…and responsibility. Ears drift rearward, this head lifts to embrace the arid torrents; constantly, they bat the silken threads of obsidian across these narrow cheekbones. Optics narrow upon the smelted horizon of brine and sky. “My fault,” a soft utterance whisked by the jetstream on the cusp of negativity. ‘There was nothing you could've done,’ her voice is tender and even though it tries to sooth me with logic, those words are nothing but tinder for resentment… …there is always nothing that can be done. I’ve only run and allowed others to become prey… Idling in the opposite direction...my gaze discovers a purposeful outline against the cool aquamarine backdrop some distance away. On the breast of that nearby dune, it titters...wavering. There isn't time for maternal wariness to ignite, nor curiosity…in seconds these nostrils have flared to sample those tart fragrances in an effort to pluck the stranger from it...and he/she is...falling! A panicked, warning rumble of disorganized sound escapes! Wide shutters fling to my savior as the stranger tumbles haphazardly, “Noah!” concern molds a frantic song, “it hurt?” Whatever infliction caused that misstep…it would surely come into view. On the side closest to our filly, my feathered arm unreels from that sheath and rotates like canopy, casting her fragile body in shadows. Forefeet bend the front of half sideways, forming a wall of humid meat between her and possibility of danger. @Noah @Rostislav

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