Tell me its a fever dream
10-03-2021, 11:12 PM
His mother's wisdom (although the woman was not quite knowledgeable about faith) did calm Deus, and he nodded solemnly as she assured him that his God would not be angered by the attempted communication. From behind closed eyelids he tracked her movements upon the grass, his ear swiveling with her voice as she circled him and explained the scene she was creating. Deus felt it was important to imagine it, and so he conjured up the images in his mind of her candles, the herb, and the smoke that would flow to him. Even while focusing so hard upon her instructions and knowing what he should expect, the smoke startled him. He inhaled, struggling to force himself to keep his breathing steady and not take in the herb too deeply in his eagerness for some form of sign. Riva had not directed him on what he should be thinking, but it came naturally for Deus to speak through his mind and reach out toward the heavens and the deity he felt might be there. He allowed himself to feel his fear, the fear of losing his family, his pack, his mother to this strange otherworldly contaminant that had touched their herbs and his nightmares, and willed that feeling toward his God. "I want to understand, please guide me. Sometimes it feels like you're not there at all." Though his eyes were closed, the world around him grew brighter. It took every bit of his willpower to keep from peeking, to keep breathing in the herbs his mother burned. He was just beginning to find his center again and opening himself back up to relaxation when a birdsong broke through the night's silence. Deus' eyes snapped open, finding the source and recognizing the bird immediately. A nightingale - his mother's namesake. His namesake. The feathers upon the bird seemed to faintly glow, and something inside Deus' chest squeezed painfully. He did not have long to look upon the creature before it finished it's song, spread his wings, and lifted off the branch into the sky - leaving behind a single glowing feather. Deus stood transfixed and stepped toward the tree, watching as the blue glow faded as gravity drew the discard down to him. By the time it lay in his paws, there was no longer a mark of otherworldliness upon it. "Am I dreaming?" He directed his soft words to his mother who led the ritual, but his gaze did not leave the simple brown feather he held. |
Current time: 11-24-2024, 10:12 AM
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