10-21-2018, 11:06 PM
i'd break the back of love for you.
@[Wane]
She had laid a single egg this autumn. It was her first in several years and she remains coiled around it protectively, row upon row of shimmering coils bundled around her treasure. A forked tongue flicks from her mouth and tastes the air every few seconds as she patiently waits, listens to the subtle heartbeat of her child through the off-white shell. The steady rhythm is a promise of its health and she feels driven to monitor its growth carefully.
Khuma had searched for days for the perfect place to build her nest. Nerine was cold but the caves remained the same temperature year round, she discovered. She examined each one at different hours of the day and made note of which was most stable. Then she dug out the sand and dirt until it was big enough to cradle her child perfectly in the dark depths. Birthing her egg had been something to behold, though. She was lost somewhere between equine and viper while she twisted and snarled.
But it had been worth it.
She remains in her serpent form now to conserve her energy. Her cold-blooded body is content from the time she spent gorging herself on anything and everything she could catch between her awful jaws. (There are still lumps in the length of her body that mark each meal.)
As she listens and waits, she thinks. Khuma wonders if she will remain in Nerine with her new son or daughter, with Wane and whatever future with him may hold. She searches the depths of her desires and surfaces empty-handed. No, she will be too busy sculpting this child and raising it to be something she can be proud of. There will be no more time to string him along.
Her tongue flicks out once more and tastes the salt of the air. The steady thump.. thumpthump.. of the egg’s heart continues against her ear.
Khuma had searched for days for the perfect place to build her nest. Nerine was cold but the caves remained the same temperature year round, she discovered. She examined each one at different hours of the day and made note of which was most stable. Then she dug out the sand and dirt until it was big enough to cradle her child perfectly in the dark depths. Birthing her egg had been something to behold, though. She was lost somewhere between equine and viper while she twisted and snarled.
But it had been worth it.
She remains in her serpent form now to conserve her energy. Her cold-blooded body is content from the time she spent gorging herself on anything and everything she could catch between her awful jaws. (There are still lumps in the length of her body that mark each meal.)
As she listens and waits, she thinks. Khuma wonders if she will remain in Nerine with her new son or daughter, with Wane and whatever future with him may hold. She searches the depths of her desires and surfaces empty-handed. No, she will be too busy sculpting this child and raising it to be something she can be proud of. There will be no more time to string him along.
Her tongue flicks out once more and tastes the salt of the air. The steady thump.. thumpthump.. of the egg’s heart continues against her ear.
khuma.