Children of the Gods
12-28-2016, 11:25 AM
Born as royalty and raised under the care of wolves who adored her and loved her, Ardora never really wrapped her mind around the concept of... missing something, or someone. She never lacked for need; since her birth the tribe slowly began to prosper again. She was taught everything that she possibly needed to know, from how to lead, to how to read the signs of the gods, to how to be fair, just, and unbiased. She rarely experienced a negative emotion; anger was rare, though she had experienced it many times. Rage, hatred, as well, were emotions she was familiar with... but this yearning, this longing... for a sign from the gods, for a sign from her tribe, for something. This yearning for home and this anger towards the foreigners who took everything away.
It was something Ardora did not fully understand, and the woman absolutely hated it. It was out of control. How could she, blessed by the gods and the embodiment of fire, a child of flame, be so helpless and out of control? How could she be so lost and not knowing what to do? How could she have failed, so terribly, to protect her people and to guard them from the hell that had descended upon them? How could she have failed? She was fated to bring prosperity to her people. Not.... not this terror and destruction that led to the death of many and the splintering of those who remained. She knew she brought prosperity, and for a long time, and she knew that her people - those left, anyway - likely did not blame her for any of it. They did not, after lal, blame her when it was starting to fall apart. They supported her in everything she did, offering advice and methods of dealing with the foreigners. Not once had they doubted her ability nor had they turned away from her. Would they now?
Whispered prayers left her lips as she stared up at the sun and the afternoon lights that no doubt illuminated her fur. She wished for a sign, something, something soon, perhaps. She didn't expect anything, not so quickly, though. Perhaps, perhaps in the coming weeks. How wrong she was. She prayed to her gods, and they answered immediately. She was used to a quick response; it was the gods who led her to make the tribe prosper, but... she wasn't expecting this quick of a response. Quick, to her, and tot he tribe, was in days, weeks... not seconds. Within literal moments, a blur of something fiery and yellow and orange literally hurled itself into her legs, crying out in a language she was absolutely unfamiliar with. What? She staggered from the impact slightly as the young wolf hit her shoulder like a ton of bricks, and she stared down in absolute shock.
Never before had she seen a wolf in such vibrant hues. Yellow and orange danced across the fur of the wolf in a manner she had only seen with herself. He spoke so eagerly, so familiarly, as if he already knew her, though she knew she had never before seen such a child. This - this was the sign? She never thought, not in her lifetime, that the gods would bless yet another wolf. And yet... here he stood, a counterpart to her own fire. A child of flame.
Tears pricked at her eyes as she stared down at the young wolf. This was what she was looking for. This was her chance. She was hoping for something small, some sign to her tribe, but immediately... this was something bigger than her now. Never before had there been two wolves with the gift of flame in their veins. Only one, and the last child had been millennium ago. Now there were two. The same thoughts kept running through the female's head, and yet it was still just as difficult to wrap her mind around.
Still, the entire thought process took only a few seconds of staring down at the boy. She did not understand his words, but she would come to, in time. She lowered her head, her nose touching the top of his head in a gesture of welcome and acceptance. "Παιδί," she breathed. Who'd ever thought? Ardora felt a warmth stirring in her breast, one that had not stirred in the year since she and her tribe had lost everything. It was a feeling of hope, for this beautiful child and what Uldormün and his pantheon had in store for their future.
"Speech" "You" Think
It was something Ardora did not fully understand, and the woman absolutely hated it. It was out of control. How could she, blessed by the gods and the embodiment of fire, a child of flame, be so helpless and out of control? How could she be so lost and not knowing what to do? How could she have failed, so terribly, to protect her people and to guard them from the hell that had descended upon them? How could she have failed? She was fated to bring prosperity to her people. Not.... not this terror and destruction that led to the death of many and the splintering of those who remained. She knew she brought prosperity, and for a long time, and she knew that her people - those left, anyway - likely did not blame her for any of it. They did not, after lal, blame her when it was starting to fall apart. They supported her in everything she did, offering advice and methods of dealing with the foreigners. Not once had they doubted her ability nor had they turned away from her. Would they now?
Whispered prayers left her lips as she stared up at the sun and the afternoon lights that no doubt illuminated her fur. She wished for a sign, something, something soon, perhaps. She didn't expect anything, not so quickly, though. Perhaps, perhaps in the coming weeks. How wrong she was. She prayed to her gods, and they answered immediately. She was used to a quick response; it was the gods who led her to make the tribe prosper, but... she wasn't expecting this quick of a response. Quick, to her, and tot he tribe, was in days, weeks... not seconds. Within literal moments, a blur of something fiery and yellow and orange literally hurled itself into her legs, crying out in a language she was absolutely unfamiliar with. What? She staggered from the impact slightly as the young wolf hit her shoulder like a ton of bricks, and she stared down in absolute shock.
Never before had she seen a wolf in such vibrant hues. Yellow and orange danced across the fur of the wolf in a manner she had only seen with herself. He spoke so eagerly, so familiarly, as if he already knew her, though she knew she had never before seen such a child. This - this was the sign? She never thought, not in her lifetime, that the gods would bless yet another wolf. And yet... here he stood, a counterpart to her own fire. A child of flame.
Tears pricked at her eyes as she stared down at the young wolf. This was what she was looking for. This was her chance. She was hoping for something small, some sign to her tribe, but immediately... this was something bigger than her now. Never before had there been two wolves with the gift of flame in their veins. Only one, and the last child had been millennium ago. Now there were two. The same thoughts kept running through the female's head, and yet it was still just as difficult to wrap her mind around.
Still, the entire thought process took only a few seconds of staring down at the boy. She did not understand his words, but she would come to, in time. She lowered her head, her nose touching the top of his head in a gesture of welcome and acceptance. "Παιδί," she breathed. Who'd ever thought? Ardora felt a warmth stirring in her breast, one that had not stirred in the year since she and her tribe had lost everything. It was a feeling of hope, for this beautiful child and what Uldormün and his pantheon had in store for their future.
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