It really was a beautiful day. The sky was a ridiculous blue, and so clear one might wonder if space existed at all; it looked as if the sky went on forever. A few sparse cotton clouds floated around aimlessly. As if they were enjoying the weather too. The sun had just roused itself from its slumber, and hung low in the sky, still clinging desperately to the horizon. As if protesting the fact that it had to get up. Like a small child. Like my children...
The large paw turned over a purple egg, rotating it on its pillow. A large gush of air whoosed past the shell as the large painter sighed. The ordeal was over, and here was her reward, at least...the promise of it. Four beautiful eggs. So varied in looks. But all amazingly beautiful.
Zephyiote lay in the shade, Benvolio a little more than arm's length away. He plucked thoughtfully, methodically at the strings of a golden harp, filling the glade with echoing notes. He had become quite good, to say the least. No, he was excellent. Zephyiote didn't know anyone who could play the harp better than Benvolio. And he was even better at guitar, and was getting better at the flute all the time.
The surrounding air was damp, humid, though what would one expect of the jungle? She was covered all over with water that had seeped from the air onto her skin, but it wasn't unpleasant. This was her home now, and she loved it. She drummed her fingers together quitely, watching as her digits touched each other momentarily before separating. Noting the blackness on the bottom of her fingers, the red on top, the vibrant purple of her claws. Her eyes glanced over the small droplets of water hanging onto her hands, the sheen to her skin as seen through water. That silvery-grey of her scales seemed almost fluid through the water.
She lay her hands down on the ground again, running her claws over the ground, creating ten tiny grooves in the earth, which she wipped away quickly, for no reason in particular.
The little clearing was noisy. Bugs hummed and buzzed as birds twittered and whistled. The whole area was so alive! Zephyiote sincerely hoped her children would grow up to appreciate, understand, and love it in the same way that she herself did.
Zephyiote observed the structure providing their shade. Four bamboo poles had been put up in a rectangle, and then several were laid overhead, forming a rough skeletal canopy. Zephy had had a lot of free time during her pregnancy, and since as time went on, it became harder to get around, she spent her time doing things around the house. Cleaning, organising, and sewing. She did lots of sewing. She'd made pillows for all her younglings, silks to cover them with, blankets, scarves, you name it. But her masterpiece, the culmination of her skill, was the blanket held up by the bamboo, spread over the lattice of bamboo to provide shelter from the sun. It was a royal purple, with swatches of rich, navy blue swirled into it. Stripes of white were incorporated, mimicing the pattern of her mate, as well as dozens of small white 'stars'. She'd spent many a night outdoors, staring up at the night sky, trying to capture the majesty of it in her threadwork. She liked to think she did a pretty good job. It certainly wasn't an ugly piece.
Several sticks of incense were placed in little jars, lending a sweet aroma to the area. The tiny wisps of smoke they emitted quickly disippated in the air, but the scent lingered. Combined with the natural smells of the jungle, the air was positively bursting with smells. Zephy laughed to herself as she imagined her children marching around, investigating all of them. "Master, may I inquire to the nature of your merry?" Benvolio questioned, never missing a beat on his now up-tempo harp playing.
"Oh, it is no bother. I was just amused at the thought of what fun my children will have as they explore our home"
"Mmm," Benvolio agreed, as he stared at the treeline. Zephyiote marveled at the way he seemed to be able to play without trying. The way his fingers danced on the strings even as he looked absent or distracted. That harp was surely the best present she could ever have given him. It was rare to see him without it.
After a few minutes of silence, Zephyiote turned back to Benvolio. "What do you think of children, Benvolio?"
"I do not know much of little ones, but the mem'ries of my kin. But I do so love your children, even as they're yet unborn," Benvolio mused, slowing down the flick of his fingers across strings. Zephyiote smiled fondly at her apprentice. What had started out as a more business-like relationship between them...had blossomed into something so much more. He really was her son, in all but blood. And she loved him. She was so proud as she watched him grow up and mature, it filled her heart to bursting. She both dreaded and anticipated the day he would leave her, as a mother dreads and anticipates the day her children are finally old enough to strike out on their own.
"Benvolio...how long do you surmise you will be staying here, with me?"
Benvolio chewed his lip a little. In one of his rare thoughtful moments. "To tell the truth is not to lie...the thought of leaving has been pondered nigh. To leave here would be to leave my home. Master, I do not want to go."
Zephyiote laughed and leaned over to tousle his feathery mane."Do not worry, Benvolio, I am not kicking you out. I was merely inquiring how long you planned to stay. You are welcome to stay here as long as you like, I will never kick you out." Benvolio looked relieved at this, and the minutes lapsed back into silence. Well, wordlessness anyway. Because, again, the jungle was never quite.
