Meadow
Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.
Posted on April 12, 2020 at 11:00:21 PM by YAZHEEN
“You are my child. Strong and pure. A woman of the world.”
Her mother had been a force to be reckoned with. Strong and willing, Vyliti had been a role model. A warrior princess, a huntress that had perfected the art of her trade. She had loved Yazheen and she had loved her well. Under the night sky, afire with the stars of a million universes, she had given her daughter stores of valor and of victory, and Yazheen had suckled at the teat of her warrior mothers before her.
They were women to be reckoned with. Considered beautiful by some, and deadly by others. Her clan, known for expelling the weak and the old, created their children in amongst the romantic drifts of the sands. Sons were killed, and daughters raised amongst the reeds near a small oasis, taught to tumble and battle, their bones hardened against the abuse of their mothers.
Yazheen was no different.
As she grew, her legs became long, and her face became curved, and her body compact and thin. Healthy and strong, she wore the white speckles of her mother, and perhaps she had the white face of her father- a man that did not exist in her life. Vyliti had once been beautiful, before war took from her an eye and carved into her flesh the scars of a million battles. For this she was jealous, for the speckled girl was the spitting image of her mother, but with eyes that were wide open and ears that pushed forward to listen.
In her disgust, her rage for the failure of her battle, the woman stands neglected in the midst of the meadow. There are no friends here, and her people are vanished into the desert, perhaps never to be seen again.
Her body aches, after the briefly lived battle with the creature that thought she was tameable, and her hair was matted and ungroomed. Yet still, there was a sort of deadly grace about her bones, and her neck was arched and her dished face turned to face the earth. Deep breaths, and she tamed the need to shiver against the cold. To be cold was to be weak, and she resented those that were weakened by the elements. She was tired, and she was angry…
And she still felt the urge to fight in her bones.
Her mother had been a force to be reckoned with. Strong and willing, Vyliti had been a role model. A warrior princess, a huntress that had perfected the art of her trade. She had loved Yazheen and she had loved her well. Under the night sky, afire with the stars of a million universes, she had given her daughter stores of valor and of victory, and Yazheen had suckled at the teat of her warrior mothers before her.
They were women to be reckoned with. Considered beautiful by some, and deadly by others. Her clan, known for expelling the weak and the old, created their children in amongst the romantic drifts of the sands. Sons were killed, and daughters raised amongst the reeds near a small oasis, taught to tumble and battle, their bones hardened against the abuse of their mothers.
Yazheen was no different.
As she grew, her legs became long, and her face became curved, and her body compact and thin. Healthy and strong, she wore the white speckles of her mother, and perhaps she had the white face of her father- a man that did not exist in her life. Vyliti had once been beautiful, before war took from her an eye and carved into her flesh the scars of a million battles. For this she was jealous, for the speckled girl was the spitting image of her mother, but with eyes that were wide open and ears that pushed forward to listen.
In her disgust, her rage for the failure of her battle, the woman stands neglected in the midst of the meadow. There are no friends here, and her people are vanished into the desert, perhaps never to be seen again.
Her body aches, after the briefly lived battle with the creature that thought she was tameable, and her hair was matted and ungroomed. Yet still, there was a sort of deadly grace about her bones, and her neck was arched and her dished face turned to face the earth. Deep breaths, and she tamed the need to shiver against the cold. To be cold was to be weak, and she resented those that were weakened by the elements. She was tired, and she was angry…
And she still felt the urge to fight in her bones.
YAZHEEN
image & html by russell
Replies:
- The Fires Rage on - By Koala April 12, 2020 at 11:14:49 PM
- don't you know the devil wears a suit and tie - By FAOLAIN April 13, 2020 at 01:04:31 AM
- i'm falling ground - By Maraigh April 13, 2020 at 02:48:02 AM
- Paint my skin with the blood of my enemies. - By YAZHEEN April 13, 2020 at 04:40:20 AM
- The Australian Fire - By Koala April 15, 2020 at 07:45:39 AM
- saw him riding down the 61 in early July - By FAOLAIN April 16, 2020 at 08:50:10 PM
- i'm falling ground - By Maraigh April 17, 2020 at 02:56:02 AM
- Paint my skin with the blood of my enemies. - By YAZHEEN April 17, 2020 at 04:25:05 AM
- The Australian Brushfire - By Koala April 17, 2020 at 05:53:12 AM
- you shouldn’t walk where the hemlock grows - By F A O L A I N April 18, 2020 at 03:06:52 AM
- should i stay or should i go - By Maraigh April 21, 2020 at 12:31:55 PM
- Paint my skin with the blood of my enemies. - By YAZHEEN April 23, 2020 at 06:33:50 PM
- The Fires Burn Brightly - By Koala April 23, 2020 at 08:21:05 PM
- you shouldn’t walk where the hemlock grows - By F A O L A I N April 24, 2020 at 08:26:28 AM
- The Fires Burn Brightly - By Koala April 23, 2020 at 08:21:05 PM
- Paint my skin with the blood of my enemies. - By YAZHEEN April 23, 2020 at 06:33:50 PM
- should i stay or should i go - By Maraigh April 21, 2020 at 12:31:55 PM
- you shouldn’t walk where the hemlock grows - By F A O L A I N April 18, 2020 at 03:06:52 AM
- The Australian Brushfire - By Koala April 17, 2020 at 05:53:12 AM
- Paint my skin with the blood of my enemies. - By YAZHEEN April 17, 2020 at 04:25:05 AM
- i'm falling ground - By Maraigh April 17, 2020 at 02:56:02 AM
- saw him riding down the 61 in early July - By FAOLAIN April 16, 2020 at 08:50:10 PM
- The Australian Fire - By Koala April 15, 2020 at 07:45:39 AM
- Paint my skin with the blood of my enemies. - By YAZHEEN April 13, 2020 at 04:40:20 AM
- i'm falling ground - By Maraigh April 13, 2020 at 02:48:02 AM
- don't you know the devil wears a suit and tie - By FAOLAIN April 13, 2020 at 01:04:31 AM
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