|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Aug 22, 2012 12:47 pm
 Oh goodness.
Oh MotherFather.
That thought made her blanch in the slightest, conjuring up the images of her own parents. Her mother would probably be proud that she'd dallied the night with a species not of her own; her father would just utter a 'that's my girl' and then follow it up with some enormous story that left her with the same problem she'd started with. The cringe she wore melted into a bemused sort of softness then, and in some small way, the thought of her less-than-conventional parents did bring her a little comfort; Wicked was a product of a lorekeeper and a tigress on a mission. She could handle this. I can. Can't I?
She was ambling along, no real direction -- no real destination. Wicked was simply on the move and as such, she paid little heed to her surroundings, wrapped up in conjectures and memories as she was. The brightly colored doe would have simply continued this way for miles, had the dark colors another, spliced with light, pulled her out of her self-reflection. White-crested eyes lifted from the ground to fall upon the most curious creature she'd yet seen in her days: large, but with grace; clearly of the Swamp, but with a majesty that gave the Kiokote pause; and with the color of night, wrapped in a sick flame of green and red, Wicked had to cease her forward march and impart her awe. She had to gaze because the lorekeeper's blood in her demanded her curiosity be sated. It didn't hurt that the darkness of the pelt tied in with thoughts of the dark male she'd since parted ways with.
With pale hooves poised with uncertainty between stepping closer or darting away, Wicked tipped her head to the side, ears forward with interest, even as her tail nearly doubled in size reflexively to make herself seem of a larger size. "What," she queried, skipping the 'who' entirely just then, "are you?" The words breathed were almost reverent and certainly held that layer of awe that was reserved for the mysticism of the Swamp. There was no better time to use it than now!
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Aug 23, 2012 12:03 am
Cue was not in the best of moods. Such was the problem with family reunions. She had gone on a journey, she had met the Motherfather, she had come back changed - and how was she treated? It would hardly have been so bad if they'd treated her as the untested doe she'd been when she'd left - it would have driven her mad, in its own way, but it would hardly have been so bad. No, she was treated as a tool. A convenient magical stick of the Swamp's, to nudge with a muzzle, grasp, and wave - for the sole purpose of granting superior babies. All the might and wisdom of the Swampmother's Chosen...used for nothing but the tricks of a glorified midwife. And as if that wasn't bad enough, the only other thing they looked to her for was to ask that dreaded question: when was she having those babies of her own...
She would have shuddered, but that might mar her image, lurking, dark and proud and blazing, within the mangrove cluster like a shadow of the Swamp. And that wouldn't do, oh no, as the pregnant doe that she had watching for many minutes now finally came close enough to notice her form. A pregnant doe (and a Kiokote, too, she'd privately thought with a sour twist within - as if she needed reminding of the Kiokote buck everyone seemed to expect her to be having those babies with), with lights in her eyes as she asked 'What are you?' as if she could have expected anything else. For what else could a pregnant doe want, wandering the Swamp and stopping at the first changed Kimeti she saw? It wouldn't do to mar her Swamp-touched image of glorified midwifery for a seeking pregnant doe indeed. She might as well get this over with.
Thus bitter, thus jaded, she flowed her way out of the rooted tangle and said, without ceremony, "You would likely know me as a Legendary."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Aug 23, 2012 2:02 pm
The Kiokote's eyes widened, unabashed in displaying her curiosity and wonder, the latter of which tended to overtake her with abandon. "A Legendary!" Wicked echoed, once more awed. "My father told me tales -- but I never really thought I'd meet one!" With the hesitation of what the great being was dissolved, especially since she'd stepped forth from the Swamp as though the Swamp had allowed the meeting entirely, Wicked took a few slow steps closer to the dark female as though to make sure she wasn't seeing things. To say she was impressed was a gross understatement.
"Is it true that you've been blessed by the MotherFather?" she inquired, all youthful inquiry in the face of one so touched by something so ancient. "The stories say that you're touched, that you're given the secrets of the Swamp -- and I've heard some stories that claim you can travel through the Swamp, and that when your kind sing, life is formed!" Wicked always surmised there was more tall tales between her ears than fact, but in looking at the Legendary, she was beginning to have her doubts; if this femme told her that she could grow branch-like wings and fly, she'd believe it.
The burnt orange Kiokote came to a slow halt just out of touching distance, eyes wide and her head held slightly lower as she drank in the other's visage. "It seems the stories don't do you much justice," she finished, sniffing of the air around the dark female. Wicked figured it'd be rude to just touch noses with someone so exalted, and as such, she was trying to keep a respectful distance, it was just...she didn't know what that actually entailed.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Aug 24, 2012 4:47 am
"Specific abilities vary between Legendaries," she smoothly replied, subtly gliding back towards the mangrove away from the seeking muzzle, "mine are rather less showy. There are some we all share, of course," with the hint of an arch drawl in her voice, she cut to the chase of the matter, "and I suppose that now you know what I am, you'll want a blessing for your clutch?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Sep 01, 2012 10:18 am
Wicked stared at the Legendary with a touch more blankness than she would have cared to. A blessing? She certainly hadn't thought of it - she'd only thought they were of a mythos, of sorts, having never seen one herself until just then - but now that the nameless doe was offering, would it be rude of her to say anything other than yes? Even if there was that snarly undertone...
The pregnant Kiokote lowered her head for a moment, eyes seeking some sort of answer or confirmation in the swamp's soil. After an extended stretch of silence, Wicked found her voice again. "It seems rude for me to ask for anything," she said at length, "and I'd only wish it to be worth your while." Lifting her head, she flicked the pale tips of her tail, thoughtful as she continued. "Their father is a bit tender in the foot for bravery and I -- I have too much, I think." The Kiokote again bowed her head, but this time in respect. "If you'd see fit to spare my children our mistakes, that they might walk a wiser path of courage...a-and maybe spare a little for me, to do this on my own -- they -- they are my first..."
And there she faltered, more embarrassed than anything. Wicked had never asked anything of anyone. To do so now felt somewhat liberating to acknowledge her own fear and misgivings; but to a stranger, one whose name she didn't have, even if they were a scion of the swamp, made her humble.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 04, 2012 8:25 am
Her strange gold eyes, more cat than kimeti, glowed, unblinking, in the shadow of the mangrove. They were fixed, unwavering, on the doe, and if Cue thought a thing of her - whatever she thought of her was unknowable from her impassive face, but if she thought it, she thought it a good long time. Then that interminable moment of silence was past, and she blinked, a slow, deliberate blink, breaking the pinpoint focus of those unusual dark pupils.
"Your children will walk a wiser path of courage," she intoned, "and you will want not of courage, to do this on your own."
A final nod, and she turned to melt back into the tangle, weaving between the sharp, clutching roots with stately ease. If the doe could keep an eye on her retreating form, there might have come a point where the swaying tail turned sudden-sleek, the dark mass of a mare coalescing into a much smaller form, a feline shade slinking soundless away.
Whether cat or mare, it would still have ruminated, sorely but perhaps just that tad givingly, on the baffling predilection of Kiokote - thick-headed Kiokote - to confide all to a stranger, to give themselves, so openly, to just anyone at all. A ridiculous trait that might someday be the death of them - or her, perhaps. But the Swamp might well frown upon picking bones over the blessing of a first-time mother incapable of guile...and as far as traits went, it was not entirely an unlikable one.
"Though this time," a last, wry, thought, "I hadn't even gotten to ask 'why.'"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Sep 07, 2012 2:43 pm
The silence stole her breath, making her think for more than one fearful second that she'd somehow offended the other. The words came, however, heady and full of something that Wicked could not place but could taste clearly on the air, and then the shadows claimed their Legend.
"Ah--!" The Kiokote cried out in surprise, taking a few steps forward that brought her no closer to the receding, feline form. "I didn't get your name!" Wicked stared off into that yawning darkness, calling into it with baffled joy and earnest gratitude, "Thank you!"
Those simple words imparted, spoken so clear and crisp in the heavy air, bright a lightness -- even a brightness to the doe's demeanor. Her doubt and nibbling fear had been dispelled and, with encouragement and hope for her impending bundles of joy, the Kiokote decided it was time to find a temporary home for her soon-to-be family.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
