5 Summer 505 AV
Dwyn lay sprawled upon her bedroll, uncomfortable and disgruntled, neither quite asleep nor awake. She wasn't sure what she wanted. Clouds had rolled in through the previous day, blanketing the skies in a thick, grey cloak, leaving the air muggy and the blonde found it all insufferable. It proved too stifling beneath her blanket yet she felt bare and exposed without it. She was still very much reeling from the events that had caused a drastic change in both her life and demeanor three days prior and it seemed discomfort was becoming a permanent state. Resolved to remain abed, she seized the blanket between her feet and managed to drag it over her lower legs before falling still, resigning herself to her misery.
Judging by the sound of the camp, Syna's face would not be in the sky for another bell and so Dwyn merely laid there, listless. She wanted to sleep, to escape the thoughts that plagued her mind and replace the darkness that hung around her with the blackness unconsciousness would provide but it eluded her, as if some fly darting just out of reach. She grumbled and shut her eyes tighter.
She craved a distraction.
It came in the form of her mother's tired voice.
"Dwyn." Distant at first, it grew louder, accompanied by the sound of her mother's footfalls, "Dwyn, child."
She listened to the rustling of the tent flap and the sound of her mothers feet as they padded along the floor, "Dwyn, I need you up." There was warmth in her words but sadness, too. Both their lives had changed so much and it was evident that Ysane empathised with her daughter's silent misery. "Come on." Those words were accompanied by Ysane's calloused hand as it moved to cup Dwyn's cheek. Dwyn merely shut her eyes tighter and groaned.
Ysane sighed and settled onto the floor next to her daughter. Sensing this, Dwyn turned into her mother's warm body, scooting towards it to settle her head onto her mother's leg as she curled around her. Ysane only smiled weakly as she brushed a hand over her daughter's messy tresses, eyeing the dirty locks disapprovingly. Dwyn had not thought to tend to herself lately, too distracted by the fog she had been living in since her father's abrupt departure and she only made a small, pathetic sound after she heard her mother's drawn sigh. She nuzzled more into her mother's lap and was rewarded as her mother gently stroke her hair once more. "You cannot sleep forever, my sweet child." Dwyn wished she could and only shut her eyes tighter.
But Dwyn was no longer a child. At fifteen, she was a woman - or, at least, considered such by her pavillion - and looked the part despite her childish ways. She was fully developed, save for her hips which she had still yet to fill out, and fully aware that she was a burden to her people since she remained unmarried and unbonded. She knew she had responsibilities to attend to in order to lessen this burden and it all hung over her like another dark cloud, just as real to her as the ones that lazily scuttled across the sky beyond the walls of her tent. Thus, she savoured this moment, needing her mother's reassuring touch.
Despite her reservations, Ysane seemed to know this and could not resist tending to her daughter's needs. Giving Dwyn's crown a gentle pat, she eased herself out from under the blonde and Dwyn heard her joints crack as she rose to her feet. She listened as her mother padded off and curled up tighter, a deep sense of abandonment settling in and seizing her chest.
The blonde welcomed the sound of her mother's return, the rustling of her feet, the sound of something sloshing and the feel of her mother's warm hand as it brushed along her cheek.
They remained silent as Ysane's fingers deftly unbound every plait she had previously woven into the young woman's hair, unearthing them from the messy tresses they hid within. "You musn't sleep in your braids, Dwyn. How many times do I have to tell you this?"
Dwyn huffed, doing her best to tune out her mother's words while luxuriating in her touch, her warmth, her presence. However, as her mother began attacking her messy hair with a brush, her eyes shot open.
"One day you'll sleep in your braids and not be able to get the knots out. I'll be forced to cut your beautiful hair. Then what? I'll have to cut them out... cut this beautiful hair" She paused her aggressive brushing to let the tendril she had worked on slowly slip through her fingers.
Dwyn shut her eyes tight, trying to hide from the thought. It was bad enough being what she was, she simply couldn't fathom being a short-haired freak on top of it all. A frown marred her features.
Ysane patted her daughter's cheek before resuming her task of brushing Dwyn's long hair. Dwyn relished in the attention once the brushing grew more gentle, fluid, monotonous and she welcomed the warm water that her mother splashed onto her head. Ysane worked the water through to the ends of Dwyn's long hair and then went over it with a fine comb. It seemed the whole process was cathartic for both for Ysane remained, combing Dwyn's hair until it was dry.
Judging by the sound of the camp, Syna's face would not be in the sky for another bell and so Dwyn merely laid there, listless. She wanted to sleep, to escape the thoughts that plagued her mind and replace the darkness that hung around her with the blackness unconsciousness would provide but it eluded her, as if some fly darting just out of reach. She grumbled and shut her eyes tighter.
She craved a distraction.
It came in the form of her mother's tired voice.
"Dwyn." Distant at first, it grew louder, accompanied by the sound of her mother's footfalls, "Dwyn, child."
She listened to the rustling of the tent flap and the sound of her mothers feet as they padded along the floor, "Dwyn, I need you up." There was warmth in her words but sadness, too. Both their lives had changed so much and it was evident that Ysane empathised with her daughter's silent misery. "Come on." Those words were accompanied by Ysane's calloused hand as it moved to cup Dwyn's cheek. Dwyn merely shut her eyes tighter and groaned.
Ysane sighed and settled onto the floor next to her daughter. Sensing this, Dwyn turned into her mother's warm body, scooting towards it to settle her head onto her mother's leg as she curled around her. Ysane only smiled weakly as she brushed a hand over her daughter's messy tresses, eyeing the dirty locks disapprovingly. Dwyn had not thought to tend to herself lately, too distracted by the fog she had been living in since her father's abrupt departure and she only made a small, pathetic sound after she heard her mother's drawn sigh. She nuzzled more into her mother's lap and was rewarded as her mother gently stroke her hair once more. "You cannot sleep forever, my sweet child." Dwyn wished she could and only shut her eyes tighter.
But Dwyn was no longer a child. At fifteen, she was a woman - or, at least, considered such by her pavillion - and looked the part despite her childish ways. She was fully developed, save for her hips which she had still yet to fill out, and fully aware that she was a burden to her people since she remained unmarried and unbonded. She knew she had responsibilities to attend to in order to lessen this burden and it all hung over her like another dark cloud, just as real to her as the ones that lazily scuttled across the sky beyond the walls of her tent. Thus, she savoured this moment, needing her mother's reassuring touch.
Despite her reservations, Ysane seemed to know this and could not resist tending to her daughter's needs. Giving Dwyn's crown a gentle pat, she eased herself out from under the blonde and Dwyn heard her joints crack as she rose to her feet. She listened as her mother padded off and curled up tighter, a deep sense of abandonment settling in and seizing her chest.
The blonde welcomed the sound of her mother's return, the rustling of her feet, the sound of something sloshing and the feel of her mother's warm hand as it brushed along her cheek.
They remained silent as Ysane's fingers deftly unbound every plait she had previously woven into the young woman's hair, unearthing them from the messy tresses they hid within. "You musn't sleep in your braids, Dwyn. How many times do I have to tell you this?"
Dwyn huffed, doing her best to tune out her mother's words while luxuriating in her touch, her warmth, her presence. However, as her mother began attacking her messy hair with a brush, her eyes shot open.
"One day you'll sleep in your braids and not be able to get the knots out. I'll be forced to cut your beautiful hair. Then what? I'll have to cut them out... cut this beautiful hair" She paused her aggressive brushing to let the tendril she had worked on slowly slip through her fingers.
Dwyn shut her eyes tight, trying to hide from the thought. It was bad enough being what she was, she simply couldn't fathom being a short-haired freak on top of it all. A frown marred her features.
Ysane patted her daughter's cheek before resuming her task of brushing Dwyn's long hair. Dwyn relished in the attention once the brushing grew more gentle, fluid, monotonous and she welcomed the warm water that her mother splashed onto her head. Ysane worked the water through to the ends of Dwyn's long hair and then went over it with a fine comb. It seemed the whole process was cathartic for both for Ysane remained, combing Dwyn's hair until it was dry.
Pavi • Grass-sign • Common • Tukant • Others |
