Rainforest Cliffs
yael
He has become the God of the Old Testament. Wrathful and mighty, all-powerful, and demanding of obedience.
Perhaps that’s who he was all along, and she was too stupid, too needy, too blind to see it. Perhaps he wears a cloak of many colors and puts it on for his chosen ones, his prophets.
Perhaps Yael has fallen out of favor.
She trundles along (swaying heavily with the monstrosity that is Gaal’s child, as it seems to move organs to the edge of functional space, her abdomen extended to its utmost width), mostly dry under her magicked cloak, and oh so very grateful to Raeden for this gift. Zani, too, in all his sickness and misery is very glad for the dry place to nestle into. His thoughts are clouded with feelings of hatred for this new place, disgust at the weather, and alternating bouts of dizziness and nausea, which make him no more than a toddler most of the time. She tends to him as best she can, but the two are a bit of a sorry pair indeed, especially when she becomes momentarily trapped in almost knee-deep mud, sinking under the extra weight of the son in her belly.
They make it out, of course, because she is determined not to die like a beast in the mud in strange land, but the little golden woman looks like she’s been to hell and back now; mud spattered up to the curves of her belly, her wingtips covered in the heavy stuff, a thoroughly bedraggled, filthy mane and tail, and a look that evokes out the dragon inside. Come on, fuck with her. Please.
Due to this mishap, however, she misses Kaos almost entirely, catching the tail end of his words and it leaves her feeling strangely empty. Who else fought for him, who spread the ‘good news’ and who put her fucking trust in him. No good deed goes unpunished, does it? The anger at the injustice of it all, at the way she feels like she’s been flung aside like an old, used rag, sears through her until it seems to collect in her abdomen and send a sharp pang through her belly. This, too, is utterly infuriating because this is not the time! A very un-Yael like sound roars out of her, full of fire and brimstone and the knowledge that she’s going to give birth in the very near future, and that is just so not what she wants to do right now.
Not here, not now, not in the pouring rain, not knowing if Gaal’s made it through, and certainly not in the middle of a group.
trust your heart if the seas catch fire
live by love, though the stars walk backwards
[If anyone needs a second post for this thread, feel free to hit her up, all welcome ^_^ ]
