In Dire Straits
[CLOSED] Handmaid - Printable Version

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Handmaid - Miasma - November 25, 2017

  Fragile life, clasped in strong teeth. Life blood dripping to the dirt, sprouting saplings from scorched soil. Carefully, she pulls the squirrel open, saves the meat for later, leaves digestive organs to feed the plants. She needs the tendons, still warm and pliable, to bind her creation.

  The owl pellets peeled open, compacted fur discarded, matted feathers left in shreds to dig out the bones. A rat's skull, with long yellowed teeth, makeshift, ichorous twine threaded through empty eye sockets, knots that hold vertebrae beads in increments along the length. Even the extent of squirrel's tendon is not enough for a necklace (which she'd like to be leather anyway) but if she ties a bow with the remaining length at the back of Sarissa's wrist, just above her four toes, but below the vestigial fifth, it may just fit.

  Her tail swishes across the ground, eager for how Sarissa will respond to this gift. It's small, amateur and easily overlooked, but it's bone, and they seem to like that in Alteron. Miasma displays even more excitement upon seeing she's not alone. "Hiya! I'm making a friendship bracelet for Sarissa." So trusting, so naive. A daughter of the Valley that somehow avoided its horrors.

  Maybe she just took them on in a different way. "Do you want one?"



RE: Handmaid - Tarun - November 28, 2017


H
e hadn't obeyed orders and the dark man had corrected him for it. He didn't hate him or even feel the need for vengeance, he had deserved it and the scars across his face were a mark of correction. He hadn't understood the orders of the red dragon and that was bad, very bad. He it slightly infected and not yet healed. There was a horrible scar across his nose, on the right side of his jaws and on top of his left eye. Disfigured and slowly growing together the scars would forever be visible.

The pain wasn't that bad, throbbing, giving him a headache, but the stench of his wounds were the part that he disliked the most. No one had offered their help to care for his wounds and the infection was becoming more apparent even as he tried his best to clean it in the water. He didn't understand medicine or herbs, so he had nothing to rely on but an instinct to wash it off and make the smell go away.

He wandered the jungle in search of someone, anyone who could help on the red and yellow wound, but he did not find what he was looking for, instead he came across a child - or well a yearling actually, too big to be called child at this point. He didn't plan on stopping here or even comment on her bloody mess of a gift, but he was a curious boy and he stopped in his tracks to look at what she was doing. "Hiya! I'm making a friendship bracelet for Sarissa." He tilt his head. The almost-adult female was displaying innocence and naivety and Tarun was not one to break that little spell. He wasn't born cruel and not yet shaped by any destination or hand. "Hello. Who is Sarissa?"

He came a little closer to look at the gift she was making, made of bones and bloody insides he wandered if it would hold forever like that. Probably not. But he didn't mind children or their little games so he wagged his tail and did not comment. "Do you want one?" It would hurt if he smiled the wounds still fresh but he involentarily did and then he winced slightly as it ripped open his wounds on his face and they began bleeding. Ouch. "Ah - yes please." A friendship br- brace- eh thing. Did it mean they were friends now?

"What's your name?"