10-29-2016, 04:56 PM
“Stay.” It snaps like a branch brittled by winter; a bellow mutated into a whisper, slipping through her lips as she watches the congregation roil over her shoulder. (They are unnerved; they are like bone-dry kindling.) She can never be sure when she has gotten through to these girls. Still their eyes, bright and quizzical, are inscrutable to her more often than not. They are cryptic little things. Puckish. They look at each other and their blinks and winks speak conversations, to which she is simply not privy,
They flinch back when she hisses, their ears mirroring her own worried position.
They are smart enough to sense danger.
They have the Rabbit in them.
“I’ll be back,” she whispers, much more warmly, touching each in the center of their foreheads, whiffling softly. They stay. They stay for now, though she she can hear them whisper to each other and she knows they’ll crane their necks until sore.
She had come to hear Magnus, the girls trailing behind her hips like two errant sparks fizzing away, one of the last few to join the group that gathered by him.
Their leadership had thinned, she had heard.
They had to set out their vision, act on it. Solidify something...
When he trespassed, she turned and cowed the girls back. Away from the big grey and the uneasiness that he brought with him. Unease and arrogance, both.
She has seen this, time and time again; she has seen this take different forms – jungle gorillas pounding their strange, armoured chests; stags locking the tines of their antlers together; stallions trading teeth and hooves.
Displays.
But the grey had come with nobody. Perhaps, a poor display. Longear settled in, as unsure as she would have in her other body, bright-white rabbit’s tail up, ears jerking back and forth. In truth, she has so little use here. She is small, pony-ish, gripped with the flightiness that could not simply be ripped from her body and chained to a mountainside.
(Alight and Giver also roll up. Or whatever.)
They flinch back when she hisses, their ears mirroring her own worried position.
They are smart enough to sense danger.
They have the Rabbit in them.
“I’ll be back,” she whispers, much more warmly, touching each in the center of their foreheads, whiffling softly. They stay. They stay for now, though she she can hear them whisper to each other and she knows they’ll crane their necks until sore.
She had come to hear Magnus, the girls trailing behind her hips like two errant sparks fizzing away, one of the last few to join the group that gathered by him.
Their leadership had thinned, she had heard.
They had to set out their vision, act on it. Solidify something...
When he trespassed, she turned and cowed the girls back. Away from the big grey and the uneasiness that he brought with him. Unease and arrogance, both.
She has seen this, time and time again; she has seen this take different forms – jungle gorillas pounding their strange, armoured chests; stags locking the tines of their antlers together; stallions trading teeth and hooves.
Displays.
But the grey had come with nobody. Perhaps, a poor display. Longear settled in, as unsure as she would have in her other body, bright-white rabbit’s tail up, ears jerking back and forth. In truth, she has so little use here. She is small, pony-ish, gripped with the flightiness that could not simply be ripped from her body and chained to a mountainside.
(Alight and Giver also roll up. Or whatever.)