04-03-2018, 09:23 PM
hold me in this wild, wild world
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
They have dropped behind the boys to speak, and the speaking is quiet, not meant for little ears. His reassurances fall short, and her words bring his honey-brown haze back to Umqra’s face, and he considers her and her words. He doesn’t believe her, but he knows better than to dismiss other’s fears out of hand. “Most children would prefer a less-than-ideal mother, to none at all,” he murmurs the words, thinking of his own childhood. The Brotherhood had left him little chance to mourn his own mother, or lack thereof, but on the rare occasion the hurt had been no less sharp. It allows him to empathize with his children who are raised by him alone, even though they don’t always think he does.
In the area of the animals, well, that is an easy topic. “Nothing regularly. Occasionally, something crosses over during low tide just as we do, but it’s rare. Deer, sometimes, or other large animals that are brave enough to cross. Almost nothing smaller than the occasional fox. Other birds quite frequently but they rarely stay. I get the feeling our parrot friends are territorial.” If he knew what she was thinking, he might offer reassurances. Few in Ischia are as they seem; almost all of them have unseen powers, though few are shifters.
They reach the pond and he is glad to see her take refreshment, and the boys begin to play – as children will. But their sudden movement makes the mare whirl around, startled, and he glances between the boys and their dam and wonders what it is that makes some mares – like his Galilee – so very maternal, while others like Umqra seem to wish to avoid it at all costs. “Of course I will care for them, and protect them. But I’m sure they would like to see their mother once in a while as well.” He doesn’t have time to turn and look at her, catalog her response, because he is watching the boys and is startled himself at the fire that comes from Dario towards his brother.
“Very nice, Dario!” he calls and laughs out loud with them, surprised but pleasantly. His children have such a marvelous range of talents. “But be careful of your brother, and others. You don’t want to hurt anybody.”
In the area of the animals, well, that is an easy topic. “Nothing regularly. Occasionally, something crosses over during low tide just as we do, but it’s rare. Deer, sometimes, or other large animals that are brave enough to cross. Almost nothing smaller than the occasional fox. Other birds quite frequently but they rarely stay. I get the feeling our parrot friends are territorial.” If he knew what she was thinking, he might offer reassurances. Few in Ischia are as they seem; almost all of them have unseen powers, though few are shifters.
They reach the pond and he is glad to see her take refreshment, and the boys begin to play – as children will. But their sudden movement makes the mare whirl around, startled, and he glances between the boys and their dam and wonders what it is that makes some mares – like his Galilee – so very maternal, while others like Umqra seem to wish to avoid it at all costs. “Of course I will care for them, and protect them. But I’m sure they would like to see their mother once in a while as well.” He doesn’t have time to turn and look at her, catalog her response, because he is watching the boys and is startled himself at the fire that comes from Dario towards his brother.
“Very nice, Dario!” he calls and laughs out loud with them, surprised but pleasantly. His children have such a marvelous range of talents. “But be careful of your brother, and others. You don’t want to hurt anybody.”
hold me in this wild, wild world
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
BRENNEN