Riptide Isles
Zahra & Ilham
It was pride that turned angels into devils
Grooves, trenches left in wake of each step forward (progression in every possible respect), lay merely for moments before the hungry tide of water rumbled ashore to wash them away. Like them, it would have been so much easier to vanish into the aether and continue a miserable life unchecked and unbroken. Things had changed though, taken her by surprise - watercolour skies after the storm - and perhaps there was some small spark of hope pinging through the bleak chemical imbalance in her brain. Undoubtedly, the heart throbbing a nervous tempo beneath her breast felt it.
With nought but a show of grace and kindness to pillar her wobbly path to forgiveness (traits first startling, hardly unrecognised), he welcomed her white flag with a soft, validating voice. Her skin crawled uncomfortably, rivulets of sweat - both induced by nervousness and the sweltering air - irritated that dishevelled canvas, but his offering was just enough to smooth that sharp edge beneath her balance; not too little, not too much, and her skull ventured bravely in subliminal response from the dull sand to half-mast.
A moment of silence ensued and ticking thoughts merged to harass that puny scratch of confidence.
Still-damp feathers ruffled where they were pulled against bold ribs, and the tail slumped jadedly between turning hocks lifted to flick once… twice. The pastel eye nearest, turned quietly to scan that glossy forehand, his breast shoulder and even feather, all nestled properly around their long-missed companion; the collar never slid about as it always did her own body, it rested there, as though it belonged. A pensive sigh engorged her lungs, before her gaze again descended, distracted by the utterance of more words.
"Uh..."
The answer was easy - yes.
The swirl of thoughts within her head was not easy to wrangle (in truth they more easily spewed from those lips on their own accord, dry and derisive), and the golden-bellied girl was working hard to produce with some tact. After a moment, even pausing stride to centre her focus, she replied gingerly, quietly, "it's for the best..." She was so used to the consistency of her beloved bond that it didn’t occur to suggest that the little spider stood alongside.
"We…"
In a startle of movement, black maw fumbled away, back into the cloak of feathers behind.
"We uh, made you this…"
From the warm, dry depths she’d plucked a tiny gold-infused bird - silk, plush, stuffed with soft down of her own - tied to the stiff quill of a little orange feather - Ilham's touch, it was the right colour after all. Timidly, awkwardly, she placed the gift down upon its water-proof base where the sand looked to be less drenched. "It's… a Phoenix…" She added quickly, drawing back too quickly, in case the look of it failed to propose the fact.
An emotional tempest broiled behind the flimsy facade of courage and she bit her lip with a furrowed brow, desperate to withhold it.
With nought but a show of grace and kindness to pillar her wobbly path to forgiveness (traits first startling, hardly unrecognised), he welcomed her white flag with a soft, validating voice. Her skin crawled uncomfortably, rivulets of sweat - both induced by nervousness and the sweltering air - irritated that dishevelled canvas, but his offering was just enough to smooth that sharp edge beneath her balance; not too little, not too much, and her skull ventured bravely in subliminal response from the dull sand to half-mast.
A moment of silence ensued and ticking thoughts merged to harass that puny scratch of confidence.
Still-damp feathers ruffled where they were pulled against bold ribs, and the tail slumped jadedly between turning hocks lifted to flick once… twice. The pastel eye nearest, turned quietly to scan that glossy forehand, his breast shoulder and even feather, all nestled properly around their long-missed companion; the collar never slid about as it always did her own body, it rested there, as though it belonged. A pensive sigh engorged her lungs, before her gaze again descended, distracted by the utterance of more words.
"Uh..."
The answer was easy - yes.
The swirl of thoughts within her head was not easy to wrangle (in truth they more easily spewed from those lips on their own accord, dry and derisive), and the golden-bellied girl was working hard to produce with some tact. After a moment, even pausing stride to centre her focus, she replied gingerly, quietly, "it's for the best..." She was so used to the consistency of her beloved bond that it didn’t occur to suggest that the little spider stood alongside.
"We…"
In a startle of movement, black maw fumbled away, back into the cloak of feathers behind.
"We uh, made you this…"
From the warm, dry depths she’d plucked a tiny gold-infused bird - silk, plush, stuffed with soft down of her own - tied to the stiff quill of a little orange feather - Ilham's touch, it was the right colour after all. Timidly, awkwardly, she placed the gift down upon its water-proof base where the sand looked to be less drenched. "It's… a Phoenix…" She added quickly, drawing back too quickly, in case the look of it failed to propose the fact.
An emotional tempest broiled behind the flimsy facade of courage and she bit her lip with a furrowed brow, desperate to withhold it.
Note to Admin: Gave Eleos 1x crafted phoenix and 1x feather of Fina's
