08-23-2020, 02:48 PM
Fechín
A green-pink overo shape crawls through the moorland and shrubbery, insofar a horse could possibly crawl. The dusk is just about to settle in, the warm orange and pink light low in the sky as she goes. She may look like a huntress to some, or so she might tell herself, though some others still see her as a young girl with her two years of age. She knows her parents do, at any rate, but Fechín was always more drawn to watching Brazen and Neverwhere, than that she would follow her mother or father’s examples - or lessons.
Fangs bare as she creeps up on a rabbit, but the creature is much faster than she, and darts away between rock crevices where she can’t reach. Fechín focuses on a snake, hissing at her from the rock, and she hisses back - and then she spits out the ice.
The snake coils away, and with a satisfactory grin she watches as the salted limestone melts away with a hiss louder than that of the snake. Acidic ice, she thinks - what a crazy but useful combination her parents had made. Too bad Brienna wasn’t interested in the amazing things Fechín could do, or perhaps she was jealous -
The rock has burned through, and the hole, or tunnel, is just big enough for her head to fit in if she wanted - but on the other side, a movement catches her eye, and she forgets whatever she was doing; curiously, she creeps closer to the rock and then around it, wondering what treasure she has found today.
Fangs bare as she creeps up on a rabbit, but the creature is much faster than she, and darts away between rock crevices where she can’t reach. Fechín focuses on a snake, hissing at her from the rock, and she hisses back - and then she spits out the ice.
The snake coils away, and with a satisfactory grin she watches as the salted limestone melts away with a hiss louder than that of the snake. Acidic ice, she thinks - what a crazy but useful combination her parents had made. Too bad Brienna wasn’t interested in the amazing things Fechín could do, or perhaps she was jealous -
The rock has burned through, and the hole, or tunnel, is just big enough for her head to fit in if she wanted - but on the other side, a movement catches her eye, and she forgets whatever she was doing; curiously, she creeps closer to the rock and then around it, wondering what treasure she has found today.
anger’s like a battery that leaks acid right out of me
and it starts from the heart, till it reaches my outer me
and it starts from the heart, till it reaches my outer me
For anyone!