"
I shrug, uncomfortable with the pity in their voices. Things had been bad, yes, but I was trying so hard to think of this as an adventure. Of making this my own idea, and not a panicked reaction to my mother's plans. I can see from the shocked expressions my statement it met with that this is not the reality.
Glum feelings turned worse when she spoke. Too much, too soon, and suddenly their chatty trio has gone bitter. Cirilla's face went from welcoming to concerned, and Tarte understood in that moment that there were some things she should keep to herself. "I-i'm sorry, I-" can't help it, I finished silently, cut off by Gar's interjection. Dawning horror sank into my bones when I saw the truth supplied in raw pink scar tissue.
Guts churning at the sight, I haven't got the words to fill the space we've cracked open between us. My own tail aches in places. It's always been too snake-like for my mother's liking, a target for her irritable nips before I learned to keep it wound close by my heels whenever she was near. But those scars are far more healed than the ones that run across his face, along his shoulder. A harsh swallow convulses my throat as I absorb what I'm seeing, faint blue light gleaming in my eyes.
I'm angry, I realize. Angry that anyone would dare to hurt my friend. Angry in a way that I wished someone would have found the time to be angry for me. Fine threads of my anger reach out, seperate from my body. They are faint, for now. The others may not even be able to feel it, but my wrath is strong. One day I will learn that it is strong enough to infect others.
Instinctively, I put my head on Cirilla's shoulder. It couldn't be her fault that their father has taken to violence when it comes to her brother. Gradually, my breathing slows. My anger fades, leaving inspiration in its absence. "Run away with m-me," I say, almost too quiet to be heard. I shudder, looking between the siblings with cautious hope.
"You too, Cirilla. If you want. We'll keep each other safe." Somewhere in this wide world, there has to be some place we can go. Some kingdom that would take on three fearful children, and not punish them simply for existing. Solemnly I watch their faces.
@[yadigar] @[cirilla]
I've seen devils, i've seen saints
I've seen the line between them fade
I shrug, uncomfortable with the pity in their voices. Things had been bad, yes, but I was trying so hard to think of this as an adventure. Of making this my own idea, and not a panicked reaction to my mother's plans. I can see from the shocked expressions my statement it met with that this is not the reality.
Glum feelings turned worse when she spoke. Too much, too soon, and suddenly their chatty trio has gone bitter. Cirilla's face went from welcoming to concerned, and Tarte understood in that moment that there were some things she should keep to herself. "I-i'm sorry, I-" can't help it, I finished silently, cut off by Gar's interjection. Dawning horror sank into my bones when I saw the truth supplied in raw pink scar tissue.
Guts churning at the sight, I haven't got the words to fill the space we've cracked open between us. My own tail aches in places. It's always been too snake-like for my mother's liking, a target for her irritable nips before I learned to keep it wound close by my heels whenever she was near. But those scars are far more healed than the ones that run across his face, along his shoulder. A harsh swallow convulses my throat as I absorb what I'm seeing, faint blue light gleaming in my eyes.
I'm angry, I realize. Angry that anyone would dare to hurt my friend. Angry in a way that I wished someone would have found the time to be angry for me. Fine threads of my anger reach out, seperate from my body. They are faint, for now. The others may not even be able to feel it, but my wrath is strong. One day I will learn that it is strong enough to infect others.
Instinctively, I put my head on Cirilla's shoulder. It couldn't be her fault that their father has taken to violence when it comes to her brother. Gradually, my breathing slows. My anger fades, leaving inspiration in its absence. "Run away with m-me," I say, almost too quiet to be heard. I shudder, looking between the siblings with cautious hope.
"You too, Cirilla. If you want. We'll keep each other safe." Somewhere in this wide world, there has to be some place we can go. Some kingdom that would take on three fearful children, and not punish them simply for existing. Solemnly I watch their faces.
TARTE
@[yadigar] @[cirilla]