MABEL
Mabel didn’t come from open, inviting, or warm people, perhaps Evelyn being the exception. She arrived from desolate hardships, weakened, frail systems, and a patched up, shoddy excuse for a farm. With survival, with coping, she’d learned to be all the more manipulating, tactful, or calculating, uncertain where to depict or place this Amun. “I suppose,” she glanced back at the castle, narrowing her eyes at it, the predilections conspiring, delving and roaming within her mind.
And the Artist’s Sanctuary? “I never thought to…” and she trailed off. There’d never been time to enjoy fine works of craft, sculpting, painting, or otherwise; not one to say if she had, contained, or could unravel rudimentary skills. Her brows furrowed, deep in contemplation, before Amun’s next inquiry unraveled.
Then she wondered just how much she was supposed to let loose – to run amongst the wolves, or to stay hovering, lone on the siege. Quieter, patting at a few flakes along the castle walls, she murmured. “It’s the only time I can go out now.” She half-smiled, the glint of a fang poking out over lips.
And the Artist’s Sanctuary? “I never thought to…” and she trailed off. There’d never been time to enjoy fine works of craft, sculpting, painting, or otherwise; not one to say if she had, contained, or could unravel rudimentary skills. Her brows furrowed, deep in contemplation, before Amun’s next inquiry unraveled.
Then she wondered just how much she was supposed to let loose – to run amongst the wolves, or to stay hovering, lone on the siege. Quieter, patting at a few flakes along the castle walls, she murmured. “It’s the only time I can go out now.” She half-smiled, the glint of a fang poking out over lips.
I bare my teeth
and stretch my claws out
and stretch my claws out
