edelgloss,
please pray for your boy because i am drowning in the water,
My feet were filled with stinging and I had a terrible thought that it would hurt forever. It was an exhausting thing to think, and I was already exhausted enough. Still, anything was better than sitting prettily at the dinner table waiting for the servants to set the places and for father and mother’s to remain empty. Nothing worse than sitting alone at a banquet table while your maid lingers behind you to dab your mouth at the first sign of a mess. Nothing worse than being alone but not really being alone.
I waited for the stranger to clue me in on exactly what I was dealing with. The deer-horse thing’s face warped with a weird smile and I squinted through one eye, confused. Maybe they were trying to look intimidating? It wasn’t working. A little creepy, maybe. But I’ve seen mother angry and there’s not a thing in this world that can compare, hybrid mystery beast or no.
Both my eyes squeezed almost-shut, just a centimeter of judgy blue apart, when they got philosophical on me. I hate that. Then the shroud of mysticism seemed to drop and they shrugged, explaining blaming the gods was the easiest course of action. “I’d blame my mother and father,” I said, simplifying the problem down to it’s basic terms, different realities and alternate universes aside. That seemed like a children’s story and I hadn’t been allowed to read those.
Looking a bit closer, I stepped forward to get a different angle of her; she introduced herself as Callynite. My head tilted to get a better look at her, take more of her in. Small and knobby and striped. Then it was my turn to shrug. “I’ve seen worse tragedies,” I said. She kept doing odd things, like striking her ears at off angles as though trying to hear something very far away. In that way she did remind me of a deer, or some other prey animal, constantly listening for the approach of something that wanted to eat her.
It reminded me I was also being hunted.
Callynite guessed I had no idea what I was doing. “Those things are not mutually exclusive. Yes.” Though I wasn’t really sure if I could ever love the forest. Wouldn’t that just set mother’s eyes a-boggle? Her baby daughter gone to the dirt, a wild forest nymph. I snorted.
She asked what I was doing and I shrugged. What would she think if I told her the truth? “I was travelling with a party out of the capital and we all went our separate ways.” Not a lie. “I’m just… gathering experiences.” Also not a lie. I swiveled my head with intent, aiming to turn things back on her. “And with all your profound knowledge,” the sarcasm was heavy with this one, but a flat kind, deadpan, the kind that went over most heads, “I imagine you’re out here playing glade keeper? Queen of the forest fairy?” More storybook stuff. I’d never been allowed to read them.
But then, I’d never been allowed to experience real life, either. Maybe these things were also not mutually exclusive.
I waited for the stranger to clue me in on exactly what I was dealing with. The deer-horse thing’s face warped with a weird smile and I squinted through one eye, confused. Maybe they were trying to look intimidating? It wasn’t working. A little creepy, maybe. But I’ve seen mother angry and there’s not a thing in this world that can compare, hybrid mystery beast or no.
Both my eyes squeezed almost-shut, just a centimeter of judgy blue apart, when they got philosophical on me. I hate that. Then the shroud of mysticism seemed to drop and they shrugged, explaining blaming the gods was the easiest course of action. “I’d blame my mother and father,” I said, simplifying the problem down to it’s basic terms, different realities and alternate universes aside. That seemed like a children’s story and I hadn’t been allowed to read those.
Looking a bit closer, I stepped forward to get a different angle of her; she introduced herself as Callynite. My head tilted to get a better look at her, take more of her in. Small and knobby and striped. Then it was my turn to shrug. “I’ve seen worse tragedies,” I said. She kept doing odd things, like striking her ears at off angles as though trying to hear something very far away. In that way she did remind me of a deer, or some other prey animal, constantly listening for the approach of something that wanted to eat her.
It reminded me I was also being hunted.
Callynite guessed I had no idea what I was doing. “Those things are not mutually exclusive. Yes.” Though I wasn’t really sure if I could ever love the forest. Wouldn’t that just set mother’s eyes a-boggle? Her baby daughter gone to the dirt, a wild forest nymph. I snorted.
She asked what I was doing and I shrugged. What would she think if I told her the truth? “I was travelling with a party out of the capital and we all went our separate ways.” Not a lie. “I’m just… gathering experiences.” Also not a lie. I swiveled my head with intent, aiming to turn things back on her. “And with all your profound knowledge,” the sarcasm was heavy with this one, but a flat kind, deadpan, the kind that went over most heads, “I imagine you’re out here playing glade keeper? Queen of the forest fairy?” More storybook stuff. I’d never been allowed to read them.
But then, I’d never been allowed to experience real life, either. Maybe these things were also not mutually exclusive.
"Speech." | @Callynite |
