Posted on September 6, 2014 at 08:43:49 PM by Cut Up Angel
If there was one thing that my dear little silverling has learned about life of Tinuvel during winter, it is that movement means life. More than once she has come upon the frozen carcasses of deer, caribou and other animals that have apparently huddled down in the deep snow seeking warmth and have never again risen. Never will she forget that first creature she uncovered, its body ripped open by the wolves that continue to test the boundaries in attempts at making these lands their own home. It was on that day she learned to survive here she must keep moving, keep searching for food and life sustaining grasses, buried beneath the frozen surface. It is this very ingrained nature that leads her to discover the newcomer, washed up on the shores of the bay. She did not come upon the mare by seeking her out, had no real intentions of making new friends. Hell she was barely working out the kinks in the relationship she had with the other few mares of the Bay that had answered Rattlebone’s call to friendship. None the less, when she observed the girl, barrel swollen with child and body shaking in the frigid shallows of the choppy ice encrusted bay waters, what humanity and pity remained in her called out to the girl and thus she changed direction of her steps and ventured forward. Dark black eyes gaze upon the mare, observing the curves and contours of her figure from the delicate dishing of her face to the small cupping of her ears. It was clear that she, like Cut Up Angel herself, was of Arabic origins and not nearly as suited to this weather as many of the others. Although my dear little silverling had spent much time here and learned to adapt well to her surroundings, she knew how this girl felt, for she had felt the same when first she found herself forced upon these shores by the great black and white SOLJOR beast she was slowly becoming closer to. Black tipped ears swivel backwards against the harsh chill of the ocean wind as my little bone-child wanders closer, her own swollen sides swaying back and forth with each tentative step she took. As she draws closer she speaks, ”It gets easier.” she states, rather matter of factly, her voice devoid of any emotion whether harsh or friendly. Long ivory lashes blink slowly as she eyes the weakened girl wobbling uneasily onto the shores. ”After a while here you will hardly notice the biting cold.” she continues, stepping closer to sidle her swollen frame alongside the mare for support and warmth. ”My name is Cut Up Angel or CUA if you prefer… I suppose you can say I am your all friendly welcoming committee to the Bay.” the stars have fallen and the sky weeps |
Replies:
- A Loner in A Land of Faces - By Elexzra September 7, 2014 at 04:22:44 AM
- ashes to ashes, dust to dust; - By Cut Up Angel September 7, 2014 at 01:00:21 PM
Post a reply: