[ What Do You Have To Say? | Ni'Srilan: The Desert ]
Posted by alkonost on February 23, 2009, 11:29 am, in reply to "Hoppípola! -- Alkohol." The silliness of her story – if it was a story – was of little importance to Alkonost. To her the shard was her father because it was he (and not the ill-fated Severus) who had given her Water. Such is life – she wasn’t out to sound cool. So, her thoughts purring in unison with the shard, she drew near and delicately pressed her lips to the flesh of his shoulder just where neck meets arm. Obligingly (greedily) the shard made its cut, and for the first time Alkonost tasted blood on her tongue. It burned. Like liquid fire it slid down her throat, a seemingly endless flow of magma from Alerion’s willing veins, drawing her in like a moth until she thought she might burst – then the cut sealed as cleanly as it had opened beneath her waiting mouth. She licked the perfect scar once, wistfully, and then backed away. “Thank you,” Alkonost murmured, “it worked.” Of course it worked. That was the point. The shard whispered its approval, speaking more strongly now than before. Yes, she thought along with it, let’s tear the world apart. She was glad that her uncle would be there with her, just like her twin – just as family should be. Turning on a heel, the white filly bounded off toward the distant mountains, a smile tugging at the corners of her bloody mouth.
173.57.141.218
“ Water is a very good servant, but it is a cruell maister. ”
- William Bullein, 1562
these are the clouds about the fallen sun,
the majesty that shuts his burning eye.
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