I swear...if they stare at me, I will tear their eyes out of their sockets.
The large serpentine form slipped through the sky, like a snake in the water. Weaving, darting, reveling in cool, moist clouds. Trying to distract herself from her frustration. See, today wasn't going like usual. Zephyiote made deals with Chi'Lin, trading silks and goods for raw jade and other materials. Which was not uncommon. Her appearence, however, was unusual. So she had a particular Chi'Lin, known affectionatly to her as Z, whom would deliver orders to her, at a certain meeting place. By the big oak tree, at the bottom of the mountain, where the particular Pan'Lun temple she resided in lay.
Z did not mock or ridicule her, or treat her like some foul beast, as did many others. He was an aging male, blind in one eye, with a slight limp, but a fiery spirit. He always brought her the best of gems and ores, and didn't stare, or guffaw, or act unusual. Contrary, he was kind and diplomatic. More than Zephyiote had come to expect of anyone else. But two weeks ago, he'd told her he wouldn't be available today. He'd be down at the painter canyon on a visit. He had promised someone else would fufill the delivery, willingly or not. No matter how many strings he had to pull, he would find someone through some connection. Though he warned he might not know the painter personally.
Zephyiote didn't like others. Obviously. Too many wounds had yet to heal, and she bore a lot of mental scarring that accompanied rejection. With a grumble, she resigned herself to descend, throwing open her wings as she came to a gentle landing on the soft grass, throwing up flower petals with the small gust of wind. This time of year was beautiful. It softened her mood, just a little. She sat on her haunches, clutching in her hands the good she was too deliver. Rich red and purple silks she'd put together herself, both with silver trimming, and a small jade statue of a cherry blossom tree Z'd asked her to make, as well as a few blown glass trinkets and whatnot.
She sighed, glancing up at the sky. I just hope this does not last too long...I am not in the mood for rude people. Though not as abrasive as a typical painter, or as distant as scornful Pan'Lun, Chi'Lin seemed to avoid her, as if she was some sort of plague. Some netherworld demon.
Who needs them anyway?
