Random writing no.2
Apr. 5th, 2007 08:39 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
wraithwitch.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
zg_shadowsStill making shit up. Garou venue after the hit on the Black Spirals in Edinburgh...
The sky was dark and clear in both the realm and the umbra above the sept of Griffin’s Glen. There was the sound of light-hearted revelry that carried on the breeze, but Khara wasn’t part of it.
"Why the hell you washin' me for?" Khara snarled at her brother, her tail flicking dangerously. "I ain't scratched or nothin'."
"Make sure you ain't touched by Calesh," Kit replied between licks. Being a spirit and not ever having taken human shape didn't exclude Kit from having an accent almost as pronounced as his sister's.
Khara's fur bristled and she extricated herself from his paws and tongue. "I got Calesh in me jus' like I got Rajah an' Nala. I don't see you watchin' too close for them or..."
Kit looked long suffering. "Stop bein' such a bitch," he ordered.
Her lip curled and her back arched, tail lashing, her claws extended and digging into the soft earth. Kit continued to sit, staring back at her with large golden eyes; her twin, her soul, her bratty little brother whom she absolutely could not rip to shreds no matter how he provoked her.
Khara's growl of fury subsided into a grumble of complaint as she swallowed the rage inside her, forcing it down into her gut. Kit was right – she was being a bitch. It was the fury in her veins boiling under the light Selene, eroding her self control and bringing all the hurtful lore she knew to the forefront of her mind. Sure, every breed had their demons, but trust the wolves to have an entire damn tribe warped to Calesh. And damn it all if they couldn't nearly wipe out every god-forsaken shifter on Gaia's earth but they couldn't wipe out their own fekking taint. It was enough to make a body scream – or kill – but the point was none of that was Kit's fault and he was just trying to look out for her. She stalked reluctantly back to her twin and submitted to being washed.
"What's got you riled anyways?" Kit asked softly. He knew she got mad when the moon was full but she wasn't usually this bad – especially not when she'd had something to wet her claws on.
Khara sighed. "Everythin'. It's all a mess in my head an' I know now ain't the time t'untangle it – but I ain't sure I got time any more."
Kit cleaned her mane with long soothing brushes of his tongue.
"I don't like goin' up against this Blood," she confessed quietly. "I don't like it at all – I don't think I'm ready for that shit."
Kit stopped, tongue still protruding slightly, and looked at her in frank surprise.
She snorted in irritation. "So you didn't think I'd ever say that – well screw you. Jude didn't make a dent on it last time! I got enough sense t'know that's bad. Real bad."
Her brother nuzzled her in sympathy and continued his ablutions. "You don't have t'go," he suggested.
"That's just it – if we don't go, who's gonna? Besides, Jude's already gotta plan, reckons we can go visit one o'the Incana an' ask for a blessin'..."
Kit's claws tightened momentarily on his sister. "Don't," he said in a small voice.
Khara looked at him. "You're fine with me tryin' t'kill a blood I'm not sure I can beat, but you don't want me goin' up t'the aetheral realm?"
Kit shivered and looked at the grass by his paws, far away from the gaze of the sky. "I don't like the star," he said quietly.
"What star?" she asked, although even as she said it she knew damn well which one. "Yeah, well," she told him, "I'll add that t'my shit list an' kick it's red arse back an' all.”
Kit nudged her until she shifted and allowed him access to her other flank. "What else's in your head?" he asked, knowing there was more to Khara's venomous mood.
She was silent for a while, the air thrumming in and out of her lungs as she struggled to control her thoughts and keep her emotions in check. "The prophecy," she admitted at last.
"What about it?" her brother enquired carefully.
"It's a damn prophecy an' I don't know what t'do about it that's what! Aunt Glory taught me that prophecy's always right – it's just the translation that gets screwy. An' she’s right – I see that. We just – we – we don't know enough."
Kit sensed some of her rage bleed into frustration and melancholy.
"The sword will be in the hand o’ the last warrior in the last battle – what the fuck does that mean?" Even in cat her words were loaded with unhappy contempt. "Last warrior o' Gaia? Last warrior brave an dumb enough t'fight? Last warrior o'the old breed before Selene thinks up somethin' better?" She was ranting now, but Kit sensed it was something that had been playing on her mind, so he let her.
"An' the last battle – is that the last battle before we all die in hell, the last battle before it all gets brought back into balance, or the last battle before we all turn red with yello' spots? I jus' don't know what I'm meant t'be doin' is all. I mean I never know what I'm meant t'be doin', but I get on an do it anyways 'cos it's better than sittin' on your tail. But this is important – I don't wanna be the one who fucks it up. I don't know whether I'm meant t'hold onto that sword with all I've got, whether I'm better off givin' it back t'the one who made it or whether I should be goin' from sept t'sept tryin' to find the best one t'wield it, y'know? It's fair eatin' me inside."
Kit rubbed her cheek and purred. "I dunno, but I know I think you're best," he told her in a show of fraternal loyalty and pride.
If cats could laugh, Khara would have. "Even when you're sweet you're such a brat," she told him with a grin. "Y'must be gettin' soft in your old age. Have I gotta find you a mate now?"
Kit batted a paw at her. "No way! I got enough trouble washin' you."
The sky was dark and clear in both the realm and the umbra above the sept of Griffin’s Glen. There was the sound of light-hearted revelry that carried on the breeze, but Khara wasn’t part of it.
"Why the hell you washin' me for?" Khara snarled at her brother, her tail flicking dangerously. "I ain't scratched or nothin'."
"Make sure you ain't touched by Calesh," Kit replied between licks. Being a spirit and not ever having taken human shape didn't exclude Kit from having an accent almost as pronounced as his sister's.
Khara's fur bristled and she extricated herself from his paws and tongue. "I got Calesh in me jus' like I got Rajah an' Nala. I don't see you watchin' too close for them or..."
Kit looked long suffering. "Stop bein' such a bitch," he ordered.
Her lip curled and her back arched, tail lashing, her claws extended and digging into the soft earth. Kit continued to sit, staring back at her with large golden eyes; her twin, her soul, her bratty little brother whom she absolutely could not rip to shreds no matter how he provoked her.
Khara's growl of fury subsided into a grumble of complaint as she swallowed the rage inside her, forcing it down into her gut. Kit was right – she was being a bitch. It was the fury in her veins boiling under the light Selene, eroding her self control and bringing all the hurtful lore she knew to the forefront of her mind. Sure, every breed had their demons, but trust the wolves to have an entire damn tribe warped to Calesh. And damn it all if they couldn't nearly wipe out every god-forsaken shifter on Gaia's earth but they couldn't wipe out their own fekking taint. It was enough to make a body scream – or kill – but the point was none of that was Kit's fault and he was just trying to look out for her. She stalked reluctantly back to her twin and submitted to being washed.
"What's got you riled anyways?" Kit asked softly. He knew she got mad when the moon was full but she wasn't usually this bad – especially not when she'd had something to wet her claws on.
Khara sighed. "Everythin'. It's all a mess in my head an' I know now ain't the time t'untangle it – but I ain't sure I got time any more."
Kit cleaned her mane with long soothing brushes of his tongue.
"I don't like goin' up against this Blood," she confessed quietly. "I don't like it at all – I don't think I'm ready for that shit."
Kit stopped, tongue still protruding slightly, and looked at her in frank surprise.
She snorted in irritation. "So you didn't think I'd ever say that – well screw you. Jude didn't make a dent on it last time! I got enough sense t'know that's bad. Real bad."
Her brother nuzzled her in sympathy and continued his ablutions. "You don't have t'go," he suggested.
"That's just it – if we don't go, who's gonna? Besides, Jude's already gotta plan, reckons we can go visit one o'the Incana an' ask for a blessin'..."
Kit's claws tightened momentarily on his sister. "Don't," he said in a small voice.
Khara looked at him. "You're fine with me tryin' t'kill a blood I'm not sure I can beat, but you don't want me goin' up t'the aetheral realm?"
Kit shivered and looked at the grass by his paws, far away from the gaze of the sky. "I don't like the star," he said quietly.
"What star?" she asked, although even as she said it she knew damn well which one. "Yeah, well," she told him, "I'll add that t'my shit list an' kick it's red arse back an' all.”
Kit nudged her until she shifted and allowed him access to her other flank. "What else's in your head?" he asked, knowing there was more to Khara's venomous mood.
She was silent for a while, the air thrumming in and out of her lungs as she struggled to control her thoughts and keep her emotions in check. "The prophecy," she admitted at last.
"What about it?" her brother enquired carefully.
"It's a damn prophecy an' I don't know what t'do about it that's what! Aunt Glory taught me that prophecy's always right – it's just the translation that gets screwy. An' she’s right – I see that. We just – we – we don't know enough."
Kit sensed some of her rage bleed into frustration and melancholy.
"The sword will be in the hand o’ the last warrior in the last battle – what the fuck does that mean?" Even in cat her words were loaded with unhappy contempt. "Last warrior o' Gaia? Last warrior brave an dumb enough t'fight? Last warrior o'the old breed before Selene thinks up somethin' better?" She was ranting now, but Kit sensed it was something that had been playing on her mind, so he let her.
"An' the last battle – is that the last battle before we all die in hell, the last battle before it all gets brought back into balance, or the last battle before we all turn red with yello' spots? I jus' don't know what I'm meant t'be doin' is all. I mean I never know what I'm meant t'be doin', but I get on an do it anyways 'cos it's better than sittin' on your tail. But this is important – I don't wanna be the one who fucks it up. I don't know whether I'm meant t'hold onto that sword with all I've got, whether I'm better off givin' it back t'the one who made it or whether I should be goin' from sept t'sept tryin' to find the best one t'wield it, y'know? It's fair eatin' me inside."
Kit rubbed her cheek and purred. "I dunno, but I know I think you're best," he told her in a show of fraternal loyalty and pride.
If cats could laugh, Khara would have. "Even when you're sweet you're such a brat," she told him with a grin. "Y'must be gettin' soft in your old age. Have I gotta find you a mate now?"
Kit batted a paw at her. "No way! I got enough trouble washin' you."
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no subject
Date: 2007-04-05 08:58 pm (UTC)The Idiot Moon just rock big time.
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Date: 2007-04-05 09:15 pm (UTC)I'm glad, cos I know you're not overly fond of Bastet.
I like the talks Kit and Khara have on their own, that's when you most get to see what's in her head and not just the surface 'snarly cat with stabby thing' =)
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Date: 2007-04-05 11:46 pm (UTC)