The dead pig proved heavier than the girl had anticipated and soon she found herself struggling to keep up the pace rather than focus upon the revulsion she felt from contact with the corpse. Though her limp was fading, Chaele moved with an assurance through the brush that would have had Zamara scrambling to match it on even a good day. More than once she pondered how agonizingly slow this pace must be for the experienced survivalist and frequently sent apologetic glances towards her fellow Abandoned.
She had almost expected a rickety cabin perched upon bird-like legs, or perhaps some sort of ancient cave, but the place where Chaele claimed to lay their head was surprisingly practical and almost primitive. Even the chair she was ushered towards was a product of nature itself and Zamara struggled to find a comfortable perch upon it.
The young dancer chewed her lip beneath the assault of fine points tossed her way until she was veritably cornered. There was no escaping from her past this time and so with a heavy heave, Zamara let it unravel.
“...a girl like me doesn’t flee from a good situation, you mean. You have the right of it, there. I…hmm.” She adjusted her position upon the knot before lifting her arms as though about to worship rather than orate. A beat later, the slender arms twist inwards upon themselves as they fall while her fingers weave complex patterns- a dancing gyration of torso only. Soft, twinkling lights began to then descend upon Zamara’s lap, coalescing into the vague silhouette of a feminine figure going through the precise motions of ballet. An illusory display to augment the tale she told.
“I had a family once. Not…not a happy one, but a family still. I thought I’d be with them for a lot longer than I was, but I guess only the happy ones are together for a long time. When my father died, none of us knew where to turn. When he was alive, he had certain…contacts. Contacts that I thought could help me find a wage, but the one they had for me wasn’t one I should have accepted. I had to do things that I won’t speak of in that gambling hall…but they also had me dance. And when I danced, I was free. I left because I wanted to find a place where I could be free all the time, not just for part of a night. I suppose I could have planned it better…is that difficult?”
The wispy dancer had dissipated in the wake of Zamara’s interest in Chaele’s actions. Despite the gore involved, there was a distinct methodology in what they were doing and she was finding it more and more fascinating.
She had almost expected a rickety cabin perched upon bird-like legs, or perhaps some sort of ancient cave, but the place where Chaele claimed to lay their head was surprisingly practical and almost primitive. Even the chair she was ushered towards was a product of nature itself and Zamara struggled to find a comfortable perch upon it.
The young dancer chewed her lip beneath the assault of fine points tossed her way until she was veritably cornered. There was no escaping from her past this time and so with a heavy heave, Zamara let it unravel.
“...a girl like me doesn’t flee from a good situation, you mean. You have the right of it, there. I…hmm.” She adjusted her position upon the knot before lifting her arms as though about to worship rather than orate. A beat later, the slender arms twist inwards upon themselves as they fall while her fingers weave complex patterns- a dancing gyration of torso only. Soft, twinkling lights began to then descend upon Zamara’s lap, coalescing into the vague silhouette of a feminine figure going through the precise motions of ballet. An illusory display to augment the tale she told.
“I had a family once. Not…not a happy one, but a family still. I thought I’d be with them for a lot longer than I was, but I guess only the happy ones are together for a long time. When my father died, none of us knew where to turn. When he was alive, he had certain…contacts. Contacts that I thought could help me find a wage, but the one they had for me wasn’t one I should have accepted. I had to do things that I won’t speak of in that gambling hall…but they also had me dance. And when I danced, I was free. I left because I wanted to find a place where I could be free all the time, not just for part of a night. I suppose I could have planned it better…is that difficult?”
The wispy dancer had dissipated in the wake of Zamara’s interest in Chaele’s actions. Despite the gore involved, there was a distinct methodology in what they were doing and she was finding it more and more fascinating.
Zamara
