Monday, January 30, 2012

Unleashed

The scream escalated so sharply that the not was like sand paper against Ulrika's vocal chords. As it died away she fell forward; her weight distributed itself over her hands, knees, and the balls of her feet. Then her stomach seized, her throat opened wide, and her lungs expanded to their fullest. She let out a roar that shook the very foundations of the keep, her spine curling violently to accommodate the force that her body shouldn't have been able to make.

Tears fell down her cheeks, leaving streams of chill on her heated skin. Ulrika glared at the gathered soldiers of Thyne as they stumbled back from the reverberations through mortar and stone all around them. She inhaled, her heart trembling under each beat. She arched her back, lifting her torso back over her knees. Splaying her fingers, Ulrika unleashed another roar that she nearly choked on. She could feel the power rattle down each vertebrae, and through an extension of her spine that she didn't have - a tail.

After the sound faded, fatigue dropped her on her hip, panting.

Monday, January 23, 2012

The Panther

Wow, panther. Pretty panther, with strong, hidden stitches along faint seams that I can't see but I can feel. Being trapped must be so hard, are you hot in that thing that shows your inside and hides your outside? What big eyes you have, too big and you stand on two legs but meander around in the same, silently powerful way as your brothers and sisters who have outsides like their insides. The stitches are hidden under shiny, smooth, black fur that you shouldn't lick. It needs to be dry cleaned. So you stand on two legs, pretty panther, and gaze at me with a fixed expression - mouth open wide - so I can't see how you truly express, how your face says what you want that thing that tells us your insides to show.

Can you even see me through the barely sheer veil that emulates a gaping maw but really keeps me from seeing what your face says? What it says that people ignore in favor of judging too big eyes, and stitches hidden in shiny, black fur that has to be dry cleaned and not licked. You put your hands over the gaping maw with the thin veil so it looks like you're laughing but I know you're hiding inside the thing that shows your inside.

It's okay - I'll give you a hug if you promise not to pretend to eat me.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

A Warning

A great pain. It is not of the planet. It is apart, but within. It's cries ripple through the world. Beyond the northern mountains in the great desert. It's cries are heard by one like in this place. He will be here soon. 

Cecilia let out her breath in a short huff, resting her hand on her stomach. The nausea had returned with a vengeance in the middle of the night, but it was worse now that she could tell it was detached. She could feel the thin threads of disorientation pulling on her limbs and head. Ever since Claramond, her purple, squirrel-fox like guardian, had spoke to her of the sensation she had noticed that it wasn't her body the felt ill, just her body resonating with the illness of another that needed help.

"How soon is soon?" she asked the guardian as he perched, wrapped around her shoulders. "The feeling is only getting worse." How long would she have to wait to be able to do something about it? It had been hours.

She paced her office in the forest adapted citadel, pausing only to rest her hand occasionally on one of the many thick trunks that ran right through the stonework. How would this person even know to come to her office?

You need to stop thinking so much and just wait, said Claramod without moving his mouth.

"That's easy for you to say," Cecilia replied. A curt knock on the heavy wooden door cut of her train of thought. "Come in then."

Monday, January 9, 2012

Midgard

Silent steps on bare feet brought a girl between tree trunks. Shards of broken egg shell had been half woven, half caught in her hair - she had bangs of sunlight blonde and behind her ears it changed to the color of fertile soil. Behind each foot fall slithered a massive serpent, a river of glistening scales winding its way through the undergrowth.

Midgard's head was held up, not paying attention to her feet as she made her way at an unhurried pace. She explored - that's what she did. The lands around her when she first opened her eyes were unfamiliar to her, yet she knew they were hers. Shafts of sunlight caught her eyes - one was navy blue with a splash of gold, while the other was gold with a splash of navy blue. She had collections of minor cuts and scratches on the parts of her body that weren't covered by the fur of a great stag.

The serpent hissed.

"No," Midgard replied, bending down to stroke his triangular head. "Not hungry yet."

A crack made the girl turn her head quickly, and it was followed by a soft crick and then a wet crackle. Curiosity peaked, Midgard wandered over with eyes open and hands stretching to part brush aside. It took only a moment for her to find a broken egg, and her chest tightened. Recognizing it as the pattern of a red kite, she crouched down while slowly turning the egg over, the slender finger shaking as it touched cool shell.

A fully, wet fluffed, yet not quite strong enough, chick had broken out of the fragile fortress and had died before Midgard could find it. She poked it once.

"Wake up," she said quietly. Its little eyes were closed, and it might be hurt. "Why won't it wake up Jormungandr?"

The serpent opened his mouth, then closed it and let out a low, rattle.

"Dead?

Midgard lifted her head as Jormungandr coiled around her and rested his head on her shoulder. Quietness passed between them but Midgard could feel his words with the rhythm of his muscles contracting and relaxing. She didn't understand. The bird wasn't going to wake up, and was going to sleep forever. It was gone - that was mortality. Something in it scared her, though not as much as fire terrified her. A shadowy serpent coiled around her heart and made it beat faster, panicked.

"I don't like it. Make it stop!" she cried, confused on where the sudden outburst came from. She scrambled to her feet as Jormungandr dropped away from her form, and ran away from the egg. From the dead thing.

The blue serpent watched, and then turned, opening his great mouth and gobbled the chick up in one swift movement. Then he followed Midgard's warmth.