|| My creative side is actually gradually coming back to me and Im pretty glad that it is c: “They’ve caught her! The fox girl! The one who’s been eatin’ all the life-stock! Come see! Maybe we can get a good look before they cut ‘er head off!” The imprudent and irritating squeaks of his sister roused Ishita from his content dreamy state, earning the brat a dreary yet furious glare. “Can’t you keep it down! It’s not even dawn!” Yang stuck her tongue out in deviance before skittering down the hall and toward their mother’s chamber, excitement basically radiating from her visage. Yang was never quiet, especially when there was gossip to be spread but this time... This time something made his brain whirl with anxieties. The fox-girl was a renowned, a demonic creature that had risen from the crops the night the villages had settled upon this land and had plagued them since, furious that they’d abolished her land in order to build their huts, to settle their cattle and had punished them accordingly. Unlike the others, he didn’t fear her—infact, if anything, this girl roused curiosity in the farm-hand who hastily began tugging on his slacks determined to get a good look at the so called monstrosity that had inundated them so. Stealthily he glided across the crumbling cement flooring, his feet silent assailants on the pebbles, vigilant eyes scanning the meandering halls, the sound of his sister’s voice echoing from the furthest corner of their home. Taking in a deep breath of relief he turned the corner to the entrance, dawn’s first light slinking between the cracks in the substance, patterning the otherwise unadorned floor with intricate, dancing golden beams. Ishita captured the handle between his clammy digits, sparing a fleeting glance over his shoulder, examining the vacant hall before prying it open, the ancient wood uttering a groan of complain before finally coming loose, illuminating what one would assume to be a kitchen, though in the lowest of standards, after all they cooked atop an open flame, their bots were rusted and their tables were created by slabs of decaying wood. “Ish?” He found himself inwardly cursing as his mother’s tone fell upon his ears, opting to hastily dart outside, shutting the door behind him before she had the chance to interrogate him, she was like that; always worrying too much for her own good. Gulping down the rock that was rapidly forming in his throat he began the trek toward the centre of their village where he knew they’d be keeping her, the girl that is. Morning had just risen so a majority of their comrades were still resting, never quite welcoming the early intrusion of sun-light.
Posted on: Fri, 17 Oct 2014 00:54:52 +0000
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