the spider, the leaf, and the owl

how'd i get so faded? The ghost girl sat in her cell, staring out the rusted slats of her prison. She was even more of an echo of herself than she ever had been, even less tethered to the earth than ever before -- aside from the very apparent and real fact that her thin body was, indeed, trapped inside a cage. Her hazy eyes stared at the place outside of her little square that was her entire life, watching with glazed, and yet contrarily somehow, apt attention. Each detail in the outside world was infinitely more interesting than it ever had been. A spider, for example, picked a speck of dust from its web for the thirty-second time that very day. There was a tiny dead leaf that got caught on very faint and wayward breezes, and could never seem to decide which way it wanted to end up going; Thea's eyes clung to it as it made a slow trek to the left, and then back as another leaking wind pushed it the opposite way. There was an owl that lived nearby, and Thea was fairly certain she had owl language figured out at least 14%. Her stomach protested it's emptiness with loud objection-- but this was something she had gotten good at not noticing. Sometimes she got some scraps. More often, she did not. For a while, the area had been bustling ; she could hear a lot of different wolves howling and screaming curses, all thrown into another cage she could see just down the hallway. Soldiers had frequented the place, guards had exchanged words and thrown curses right back at the other cage-wolves. A lot of them had managed to get free, and supposedly there was another battle happening soon -- or already did happen, time was a liquid thing. And so, her particular hallway was relatively quiet. Relatively forgotten. Except for the spider, the leaf, and the owl. Oh, and Thea of course. “my sin, my soul.”

ART ➤Zel204 CODE ➤ amphi

@Raith

RAITH SAMAIRE
Temperance is my virtue

Silently the boy would move along the tunnels, his mind fleeting from the warring world outside of the pigeon cells he rarely tended to while in the stronghold. His lips pierced as he hadn’t noticed any soldiers this way but that was expected when the call to duty lingered in the air, blaring to head toward the college where so many royalists had found station in attempts to gain back what they had lost last time. He had never thought he’d be trapped here too, like the prisoners that lined the larger cells, having more freedom to move than the barracks dungeons but at a cost of even worse treatment. If one could not move fast enough for a meal they could lose it, to those more greedy. He had to admit the royalist’s organization was more helpful, it hardly made up for the cruelty of those in charge.

However, it wasn’t the mass cell that he had moved toward with uneven steps. Singular cells for higher profile faces or those that carried information the chiefs wanted were held separately and he didn’t truly think anyone would be over here. There was a story of a young woman being held down here though, and he was admittedly curious as to who she was, what made her dangerous or important enough to be kept away from the others. Why she apparently made her father tick. Surely it was just gossip but just in case he was wrong, a scrap of meat hung from between his lips, doubting the stranger would be receiving any care, especially now.

When he started to catch the scent of waste and rot burning his nostrils and making his muzzle wrinkle, he would start to second guess that expectation of finding any empty void. It was nauseating, making his tail curl and flick in silent disgust. Someone must have died down here and sure enough he would find a body as pale as snow resting within the confines, unmoving and merely an apparition of what once was. It would cause the flesh betwixt his fang to fall when he would see a rib cage flutter as if it was breathing. The haze of pale eyes much like that one healer would guide his attention, nearly certain they had blinked once or twice.

Ears flexed back slightly, head tilting as he looked at the bone thin entity that seemed so frozen in time. Perhaps he had been too late as he moved closer to the cage bars, his breath a little haggard from pain and the smell but his expression was downcast and sullen as he didn’t stop at the gate like maybe he should have. Even as a corpse, she was beautiful like a goddess of snow, and he could only wonder what she might have looked like full of life. Guided by curiosity, he would extend his face past the safety that kept the prisoner from reaching him, pressing his muzzle gently to her cheek to see if she was as frost laden and transparent as she appeared.

Maybe she would even fade to dust and collapse before his touch.

code by claerie

how'd i get so faded? Oh, there was something new. There was a noise other than the owl complaining about the early frost. It was the sound of pads on stone, soft. Subtle. She wondered who the steps belonged to — it could be anyone. A guard, her captor, a Fae (she’d heard whispers about Fae, and she contemplated if they actually made footstep sounds; she didn’t actually know). Her pale gaze flitted almost imperceptibly toward the figure that approached; ah, so it was her captor. He visited rarely, and in the foggy back of her mind she wondered if she should be frightened of his presence. He came closer and Thea slowly blinked, gaze flitting briefly over his face. She had been wrong — this wasn’t her captor, though he certainly looked like him. He didn’t move like him though. And his face did not hold the same stoniness or harshness. He was also much younger. A son? Which mean that, perhaps, this was Roisin’s brother. That thought sent a small bird fluttering in her chest. Anything familiar did. Thea didn’t move as he approached — he looked almost spooked, almost disgusted, but seemed unable to not fulfill his curiosity about her. She wondered what he was curious about. She also noticed the piece of meat between his jaws as he dropped it, and her body almost instinctively threw itself at the bars. But she had always had a foot in another world, the sight of food that her body so craved wouldn’t make her jump so easily. Not to mention, she was awfully tired. The boy moved closer, and still Thea remained. She watched as he approached the bars, as he slowly moved his muzzle through their protection. This surprised her. If she were any other soul, perhaps she would have bitten him. But she was as curious as he was— she wanted to see what he would do. She could feel his warm breath against her cheek, and for a moment she too wondered if she would vanish in puff of smoke the moment he touched her. But she didn’t. His nose pressed into her fine fur, and she did not disappear. And there they were, both together, solidly in the present. Several moments passed, and then she spoke.. “Never seen a ghost before…?” she asked with her quiet, whisping voice. While it always had a lower, rasping quality to it, it was even more so now from lack of use, lack of water. Even so, there was a strange hint of amusement in her tone, and a ghost of a smile was on her dark lips as her eyes found his.

ART ➤Zel204 CODE ➤ amphi

@Raith

RAITH SAMAIRE
Temperance is my virtue

With that lack of movement as he cut off space, he felt like that was proof enough she was far from alive, certain a living woman would be attempting to gouge fang into his muzzle or reaching for survival at any cost. At least, from what he has seen among the living, where instinct often rules minds rather than the winds or fae entwined. A mind was faulty in many aspects that he couldn’t wholly agree with, as many of his own thoughts didn’t seem to fit what was normal just as it was now.

His lips parted just a little to draw her scent in more just as his nose pressed into her but much to his surprise she wouldn’t deteriorate, rot not settling in her body to turn her to nothing. There was heat there and he was certain her eyes were truly moving as if one of those paintings in castle halls that followed one wherever they went. No, there was breathing, subtle movement of a gentle frail form that seemed less dangerous than a newborn puppy. Any harder and he was certain she would break but even as realization hit that she was very much alive, he didn’t attempt to withdraw, finding her scent far more comforting than the rest of the smells down her. Like a fresh storm had just passed and cleansed the world. It seemed so backwards to how she looked, how her fur buckled and tickled his nose.

It wasn’t until she spoke that he would come back to reality, much like the ghost she appeared to be and it made his heart bound in his chest that he should be possibly a little more cautious than he was at the common tongue spilling from her lips but he didn’t retreat. No, he lingered, observing her close, allowing that curiosity to keep a hold on him. He didn’t understand every word that was said, though some were commonly heard it seemed like they had no real translation from what he had learned of the language so far. Seen and ghost, those were familiar as he did move his head back just enough to take in her pale face and dripping mascara like eye markings. Those pale spectral eyes that seemed too focused to be blind as she smiled oh so gently. He could not deny the desire to help her that he felt toward many when the fae seemed to be playing their games and guiding him to do their bidding.

Maybe the fae wanted him to help her as Calla had helped him in the Mainlands, offering him aid in his confinement. He couldn’t be sure, he never could be sure of what fate they guided him toward after failing to read the last sign so miserably.

“Who?” he breathed softly, still close enough that she could feel the heat that trailed his past his lips and nose. His voice was much like the owl that kept her company, yet it was a true question of a tongue she should understand yet he barely knew.

code by claerie