09-24-2016, 11:46 AM
Akkadian
"Awk-ay-dee-Uhn"
His mouth was set in a grim line as he raced across the land. Determined strides ate the distance with a warrior's grace, inky black hair marring the pale sky like angry scribbles of a permanent marker. Thick mud kicked up in his wake, an almost unnatural sort of feeling beneath his hooves. It was nothing like the hard-packed clay of home, these lands, where so much rain fell and softened the earth. The people, too, seemed so soft and pliant. He missed home. And so he'd find it again. He'd find her again.
After the brutal murder of his family, he'd come to learn that his sister had been the only other survivor. When they should have been mourning together, he had been chasing her away. Afraid to lose her too, but too pig-headed to see she did not want his protection, his control. It all just slipped in so naturally, like a well-oiled machine turning over to do as it was created to do. But this machine in him didn't have an off-switch, couldn't shut down. Trained as a child until his manner and protection became instinct, nothing within him challenged it.
He'd pushed her away again, unintentionally, and he knew he had to make it right. She was all that was left of his family. There were so many secrets buried in their past, so much he could never tell her.
As if summoned by his thoughts, her elegant figure manifested in the distance. He slowed then halted where he was, looking off at the rich ebony coat that blanketed her, barely a smudge on the horizon though his heart knew it was her. For a time, he just watched her quietly, steeling up the nerve to approach her. Their last meeting had not gone well at all, ending with her attacking him.
Dead eyes slid to his shoulder, permanently marked by her vicious teeth and still caked with healing skin. He knew why she'd done it; she never wanted him to forget. But she didn't know his heart could never forget her face, her accusing eyes haunting his nightmares.
He knew he had to find her and apologize, or do whatever he needed to make this right, but the emotions rolling through him stayed his feet and locked him in place. Could she forgive him, for whatever he'd done that had pushed her away? Would she understand it was only her safety that had concerned him so, enough that he lashed out at anyone near her. Only her safety. Not jealousy.
Standing still and silhouetted against the gray sky, he only stared silently from his perch. The wind picked up, throwing his hair forward. His tail wrapped across his side, his mane thrashed in his face. And the spicy scent of a desert-male was clutched by the breeze and carried to her like a faithful mutt retrieving what she'd asked of it.
After the brutal murder of his family, he'd come to learn that his sister had been the only other survivor. When they should have been mourning together, he had been chasing her away. Afraid to lose her too, but too pig-headed to see she did not want his protection, his control. It all just slipped in so naturally, like a well-oiled machine turning over to do as it was created to do. But this machine in him didn't have an off-switch, couldn't shut down. Trained as a child until his manner and protection became instinct, nothing within him challenged it.
He'd pushed her away again, unintentionally, and he knew he had to make it right. She was all that was left of his family. There were so many secrets buried in their past, so much he could never tell her.
As if summoned by his thoughts, her elegant figure manifested in the distance. He slowed then halted where he was, looking off at the rich ebony coat that blanketed her, barely a smudge on the horizon though his heart knew it was her. For a time, he just watched her quietly, steeling up the nerve to approach her. Their last meeting had not gone well at all, ending with her attacking him.
Dead eyes slid to his shoulder, permanently marked by her vicious teeth and still caked with healing skin. He knew why she'd done it; she never wanted him to forget. But she didn't know his heart could never forget her face, her accusing eyes haunting his nightmares.
He knew he had to find her and apologize, or do whatever he needed to make this right, but the emotions rolling through him stayed his feet and locked him in place. Could she forgive him, for whatever he'd done that had pushed her away? Would she understand it was only her safety that had concerned him so, enough that he lashed out at anyone near her. Only her safety. Not jealousy.
Standing still and silhouetted against the gray sky, he only stared silently from his perch. The wind picked up, throwing his hair forward. His tail wrapped across his side, his mane thrashed in his face. And the spicy scent of a desert-male was clutched by the breeze and carried to her like a faithful mutt retrieving what she'd asked of it.