chaele
worship like a dog
What she thought was the herb was simply a tuft of grass, heavy with half-frozen mud. With a frustrated scoff, equally at Maea’s description of choices as at the unfruitful journey, Chaele continues on. Talk of family and battle and preparation wells in her chest and gives her pause, inspiring that familiar silence that so often seems to fall between them.
No! A squirrel chimes in from behind now, perhaps the same source of the noise that the Ascended had heard earlier. Noo… Oh! No!
This prompts her stubbornly forward, though with the stifled huffs that signal the onset of fatigue. The torch is burning low as well, more ember than flame as she stretches it out in vain. Still her voice is soft with gratitude as she replies to the tone of Maea’s, the one that insists that she would honor the shaman’s will. Chaele does not tend to make many friends, but this one seems to be close to it.
“I suppose there is always a choice,” she relents. “Even if it is an unfavorable one. But my abilities are in the survival of the wilds, in the intuition of their constituent parts. I doubt I will be useful to either side, and I intend to keep it that way.”
No! A squirrel chimes in from behind now, perhaps the same source of the noise that the Ascended had heard earlier. Noo… Oh! No!
This prompts her stubbornly forward, though with the stifled huffs that signal the onset of fatigue. The torch is burning low as well, more ember than flame as she stretches it out in vain. Still her voice is soft with gratitude as she replies to the tone of Maea’s, the one that insists that she would honor the shaman’s will. Chaele does not tend to make many friends, but this one seems to be close to it.
“I suppose there is always a choice,” she relents. “Even if it is an unfavorable one. But my abilities are in the survival of the wilds, in the intuition of their constituent parts. I doubt I will be useful to either side, and I intend to keep it that way.”
at the shrine of my lies
