[Eskimo]'s Teepee

[[Eskimo]]

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Name: Hex

Meaning:
Pronunciation:
Origin:

Gender: Female
Breed: Mutant
Species: Teamonster

Stages: x - x - Adult

Father:
Mother:
Siblings:

Mate:
Offspring:

Herd:

Obtained: Teamonster Terror Story Contest
Colorist: Strifeling

Personality:

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[SRP] Choices. (Octobre & Hex)

 

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Crickets were intruders, but more welcomed than some. They fed on her precious plants. She didn't like that. But they had their uses. Tiny alarms whose silence rather than cries signaled trespassers. And it was silence that she now heard. Silence that touched her insides with a chill.

Was she born or made? She doesn't know, and may never know. She has seen life in its beginning--caterpillars, flower buds, tadpoles...had she been the same? She has never seen an infant her. She believes the Goddess simply made her. She has always followed the guidance of the Goddess for as long as she can remember (which is not a very long time). The voice of the Goddess was her first memory of sound when she woke up in the Kawani forest some years ago, and yet the Goddess never speaks out loud. The Goddess is her only true companion in those woods. It was the Goddess who lovingly made all things. And yet it was the Goddess who bestowed her with a terrible curse. The curse of her Choice.

Her heart had reached its pinnacle beating, the pumping blood pounding sickly in her head, ears, chest. Tongues of flame lapped furiously at her maw and brows, and she voicelessly begged them quell, but they would not. She pulled her scarf round her head for cover and prayed to remain unseen. There were footsteps now.

All living things were created with one purpose to fulfill--one path to walk. There may be multiple paths, certainly, but there is only ever one Choice to be made in the end. It is the purpose of ants to clean that which decays, and the purpose of butterflies to help the flowers thrive. Their paths are simple ones. Her paths are not. At the crossroads of two choices, the mare cannot decide which path to take--which path she is meant to take. The Goddess created her with one purpose in mind, like all things. But She is cryptic. The mare must decide on her own.

Hair like snow, eyes like icicles, four wings pure as a lily's petals. The stallion was beautiful, but blackened by the shadows of the deep forest--blackened by the fear of strangers that resided in the mare's heart. All at once, the fire in her skull extinguished, and for a moment she allowed herself to feel some happiness at her triumph. But it was in that moment that the stallion peered through the trees at her.

The smoldering fire in her skull was a gift to go along with her inevitable Choice. With one well-placed spark she could cause devastating forest fires--scorch the earth till it was barren, burn towering trees to her paws, and even end the lives of other creatures. But she could also renew life--in the wake of guided flames and ash, new plants could sprout and flourish, and sycamores could stretch even higher from the rich soil. She spares no great thought towards sentient creatures when it comes to making her Choice. She feels too distant from them--too afraid. Her friends are the oaks, rosebushes, moss-touched creeks. At least for now. But the Kawani forest is her shelter more than it is her home. She's a recluse in every sense of the word, but more-so out of fear than she realizes.

"Who's there?" the crystalline voice called. The sound of another was foreign to her ears. It was rare for her to see Others so deep in the woods, especially winged ones. But winged ones weren't as frightening as some. They couldn't fly here. And this one didn't seem threatening. And yet his mere existence was a threat in its own right. The mare's brows twisted with reluctance. She swallowed several times before stuttering, "L-leave this place."

Others scare her more than anything. She doesn't know how to be around them, and she won't let herself become familiar enough with them to find out. She questions them constantly and always suspects evil before good. Her anxiety is crippling, but she doesn't yet understand the joys of friendship or the peace of love. Not yet. But maybe there's still time for her to learn--time for her to turn away from the path of destruction and loneliness and see the beauty that life and love offer?

"Don't be afraid, Mare," he spoke gently, as if she would break. "I mean you no harm." The mare's brows furrowed. She didn't believe him. "I'm only passing through on my way to the mountains." Mountains? Unlikely. Why hadn't he flown? Her questions remained trapped in her throat. Conversation was difficult for her. The stallion spread his many wings and they quivered. Their feathers were tainted with blood. The mare gasped and stumbled backward. "Don't be afraid," the stallion soothed again. "I was attacked on my way by a devil. I won't be long here. I only seek to pass through." Attacked?! He would bring the demon here! Or was that the case? Perhaps this was all a ruse? He could be tricking her. Fire sparked to life in her skull, and then it roared. She stepped forth from her hiding, scarf falling to her neck. Through crackling, sputtering ember and blaze, her voice boomed, "LEAVE THIS PLACE!"

Her fear of Others can twist into spite and rage. It is a response to protect not only herself, but the forest. But should she continue to protect it? She will have to choose her path definitively someday. The Choice sometimes overwhelms her and throws her into despair, but through mediation and prayer she can find her inner-calm again. But it is only a stall. A stall that provides temporary relief from the doom of the inevitable. There is safety in choosing not to choose. And there she now remains. But for how long, not even the Goddess knows.

The rocks were cool against her skin where she lay, blood still calming from her taxing encounter. Her heart ached and she groaned pitifully in response. Images of the fleeing stallion played time and again in her mind. She had made him afraid. She had made him afraid as he had made her afraid. And yet this knowledge did not bring her satisfaction. She felt empty. The Goddess was silent now. In that silence the mare's mind began to wander. Had she always dwelled in these woods? Was there really a Goddess? The stallion's kind eyes flashed in her memory. She smothered a sob in her scarf.

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Lisa Gerrard - Come Tenderness  

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