the world wends weary on its way : hypatia
Posted by slv. Ilium on March 5, 2009, 11:21 pm
64.13.13.50
- She wanders to the desert, children faithfully at heel (or twenty feet away, cavorting in the grasses). She feels like she should apologize to Hypatia - like she's let her down, for leaving, for never knowing what 'home' was.
Also, she wants to show Hypatia her babies.
- "Iahhel, come here," commands the green-eyed huntress, calling the buckskin filly away from a cactus. "Those bite." With a roll of her pale eyes, the child steps away to her brother. He nips at her, ears cocked in restless challenge, and they squeal and clash like kittens tumbling in the litter. Excelsior finally manages to get hold of Iahhel's crest, and suddenly thorny vines erupt in her mane. He lets go with a yelp, and spends several minutes trying to rub the thorns out of his muzzle, while Iahhel retreats smugly to Ilium's legs.
Children.
- They begin to tire soon - they are young, after all - and so Ilium is glad when she spots the fire-queen before long. She approaches, and sharply checks her children with a word before they run to the mare, because something is not quite right. "Hypatia?" she asks quietly, as the smell of desert lily and wildflower lingers in the air. Stung by their mother's rebuke and only vaguely aware of the gravity of the situation, the twins stand behind Ilium's vine-tangled tail and peer out, one black-and-white face, one pale gold.
- The warrior moves to Hypatia and settles her muscled, scarred body against the hot-cold skin of her queen. Hypatia is by all rights some sort of godmother, having been present at Ilium's birth; they are tied together, as much as anyone in the Element ever is. And the silver-black mare does not need to be an Oracle to read the roaring emptiness in Hypatia's expression. Something is not quite right, indeed. Bleating a soft query, Iahhel slips forward to face the stranger. She reaches her tiny dark muzzle up to Hypatia's, breathing in the strange charred scent, and touches her with a child's quiet wonder. Ilium lips gently at Hypatia's mane, bringing to her as best she can the cool, heavy steadiness of Earth. It is small comfort, but perhaps it is something.
ILIUM
And the fire with all the strength it hath,
And the lightning with its rapid wrath,
And the winds with their swiftness along their path,
And the sea with its deepness,
And the rocks with their steepness,
And the earth with its starkness: |
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