Chill of the dark

Great sandy pillars held the sandstone balcony above Ignita. The railings draped in silken tapestries and bright floral vines.  The fountain gurgled in the center of the courtyard amidst many voices and people, cajoling, celebrating, laughing, whispering all around her. Despite the sun above Ignita could not feel the hot sandy ground beneath her paws, or the breeze from the fountain mingling into her fur. Instead, her paws felt heavy and cold as she ascended the marble steps... or where they sandstone? They shifted beneath her. A high haughty voice carried over the throng of people, telling her to come forward some more so everyone could see her. The fountain suddenly turned red with wine and the scene twisted into a spiraling haze, she was suddenly alone in her workshop, the sounds of the garden party filtering through the lattice windows. A trio of partygoers stumbled in, their heads swimming in casks of wine. They reached toward her and grabbed her ears, their breaths hot and stank with booze. Suddenly she was being dragged through the courtyard by another partygoer... The decor was blue now instead of pink. The smell of rum and spice and heady perfumes surrounded her as she was lifted up and tossed into the fountain. So cold, cold, cold, cold....

The cold night whispered its eerie winds through the Col. Playing delightedly in the flames of the pyre behind the obelisk of the Armada. Within her den, the Little Slave was curled up against the winter chill that was determined to penetrate her thin desert coat, despite the piles of fur around her. She slept fitfully, the smell of the mead had awakened memories she had no reason to remember.

She gasped as she woke, tears streaming down, biting her face with the chill of the dark. She couldn't take it anymore, the tiny frame of Idalia was not enough to warm her and let her sleep. Blearily half-thinking, not thinking at all, she stumbled out of her den. Her paws led her up the stairs and entered the quarters of the warlord. She paused in the corridor, suddenly not sure which room to retreat into. She vaguely thought of not wanting to get Spider into trouble... The quarters themselves were much warmer than her den overall. Maybe there was a draft in her new den she'd have to investigate later. She pushed her paws forward and she found herself next to the great mountain that was Basilisk. Trying her best not to disturb him she curled up alongside his back, sighing heavily with a shuddering breath she couldn't keep within. As she tried to breathe in another shuddering breath shook her tiny body. She prayed to the sun, to the sky the moon, whoever that she wouldn't wake him and make him angry at her audacity.


"Ignita"