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Posted on June 3, 2010 at 09:00:45 PM by Morgana & Kraar
She had hated being cooped up inside the castle for the past two months, her raven friends had been forced to leave her in order to look for food, and although she still had Kraar, she missed them. It had been a relief to Morgana therefore when the waters had finally began to retreat, and whilst she could not yet go home to the Mountains with Jensen and Phoenix, at least she could go for a walk if she really wanted to. Until the third curse had stuck Morgana has not been aware of how much time she spent outside, especially since she had been gifted with the sense of touch. She loved to run her hands over things, the bark of trees, Kraar’s feathers, she loved to walk through the shallows of the river with the skirt of her dress in her hand as the water lapped around her ankles and splashed up her legs. These were things that so many people managed to take for granted, but the raven-girl felt that, in this gift, she had found true magic, and she would never, ever stop appreciating it, because she would always remember what it was like not to have it. The impulse would take her sometimes, unexpectedly, once she had been standing in one of the castle rooms on her own and grown keenly aware of the cold smooth stones beneath her feet and begun to wiggle her toes. Slowly, she had instructed Kraar to unzip the back of her dress and laid down on the floor, giggling to herself as the feeling of the stone against the soft pale flesh of her back. Kraar. Over the long weeks Morgana had come to realise just how much he meant to her, he was unwaveringly loyal, and whilst she knew he could be cold and even cruel, to her he was tender and compassionate and that was all that mattered. For his part the large raven listened to her, she knew when he needed keeping in check so that wicked words did not emerge from his beak, and she knew how to calm and control his temper. And yet this bond between fairy and familiar, which was so strong due to their dependence upon one another, meant other things, her trust in him meant that he was able to convince her of things that no one else would have been able to, and once Kraar had talked Morgana into something, the only one who could convince her it was the wrong thing to do, was Ewan. She missed him, he had been missing since the flood and for weeks she had spent the nights crying, large tears dripping down over her delicate features as they fell from her ebony eyes. Kraar had been there for her, running his beak through her hair and whispering words of comfort, and slowly, she had come round, resolving that she would find him, whatever it took, she cared too deeply for him not to know what had happened to him when the waters had come. She walked down one of the corridors, left foot on the slate tiles of the floor, the other on the soft fabric of the red carpet which ran down the middle of the isle. Her left hand ran along the wall, and Kraar was perched upon her right shoulder, contracting the muscles in his feet in order to squeeze his mistress’ shoulder, knowing that it made her happy to feel things like that. Stopping suddenly at the sight of a green figure, that only she and Kraar could see, Morgana used her familiar’s eyes to look at the ghost. ”What do you want?” she asked it, tilting her head questioningly to one side. The ghost stared back at the girl, before leaning forwards slowly, as if each move caused it physical pain and whispered in her ear, through the thick blackness of her hair, ”it is coming.” When Morgana looked up, the ghost was gone. Morgana & Kraar
Ghastly, grim and ancient raven, with a name like Nevermore |
Replies:
- i don't want to love you now if you'll just leave someday - By e w a n June 4, 2010 at 02:18:00 AM
- they are the unquiet dead - By Morgana & Kraar June 6, 2010 at 10:21:30 PM
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