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(argh, this is not how I wanted it to go)
Dec. 28th, 2007 09:19 pmA few weeks ago ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
elicia8 posted a picture she'd drawn of a random long-haired snow-girl character, and then a plotbunny grabbed my leg and wouldn't let the hell go. This is not precisely the way I wanted this to go, but the words and I are having a disagreement tonight. Not that this is bad, but it's just not what I was imagining, quite - it's hard to translate images to words sometimes? But it's too tangled up inside my head and I had to put it somewhere else for a little while and maybe it'll get untangled if I do that.
Also: this is for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nellwyn, for sponsoring me for Write-O-Rama and just being generally awesome, because I think of her when I think of Girls having Adventures. There is more to the Girl's Story, which I hope to add later when the words and I are in alignment. Thank you, sweetie! <3
Tchaka said there was something funny up past the old ridge-stones: a strange blue light in one of the ice caverns that glowed like cold flame. That even the bears, who feared nothing, stayed away from it.
Father grunted and poked the little fire with his stick and told Tchaka not to bother with it, and that they weren't supposed to be going beyond the ridge-stones anyway. He didn't like them going that far, not since last sevenmoon when mother had wandered off into the blowing ice of winter's last storm and was never seen again, and they knew that. Tchaka said that he had to go where the fish went, and Father grunted again and said nothing at all.
Noula hugged her favorite dog closer and pretended to be asleep. Fortunately the fire was dying down and they couldn't see the tears trickling down her face.
It wasn't fair. Tchaka could go anywhere he wanted, and all he had to say was that the fish had taken him there. Noula was expected to stay around camp and learn how to scrape hides from the other women, even though she could fish better than Tchaka.
The dog licked the salty tears from her eyes and said nothing; but the wind, mother mischief that she was, cried emptiness outside the window and called her toward the caves, and Noula was powerless to resist the wind, always.
*
Tchaka was right - it was easy to see it from the ridge-stones. The blue glow spilled out of the cave's mouth over clean, unmarked snowfall.
The dog bounded ahead, and Noula broke the ice crust of early morning with her stick, slowly clearing a path for herself.
The dog, who had been snouting around the edge of the cave, yelped and leapt back as if she had been burned, four furry feet entangled in each other in her haste to get away.
"Easy, easy, pup." Noula murmured, running her hand over the silken fur of the head. "Come on. Not far now, not far."
The dog stayed fast, her tail between her legs, ears-down submissive. No.
Noula sighed and took the last two steps toward the cave, entraced by the white-blue light. She put one palm up to the cave -
And then she wasn't there any more.
A dog's howl broke the morning silence of the frozen tundra.
elicia8 posted a picture she'd drawn of a random long-haired snow-girl character, and then a plotbunny grabbed my leg and wouldn't let the hell go. This is not precisely the way I wanted this to go, but the words and I are having a disagreement tonight. Not that this is bad, but it's just not what I was imagining, quite - it's hard to translate images to words sometimes? But it's too tangled up inside my head and I had to put it somewhere else for a little while and maybe it'll get untangled if I do that.Also: this is for
nellwyn, for sponsoring me for Write-O-Rama and just being generally awesome, because I think of her when I think of Girls having Adventures. There is more to the Girl's Story, which I hope to add later when the words and I are in alignment. Thank you, sweetie! <3Tchaka said there was something funny up past the old ridge-stones: a strange blue light in one of the ice caverns that glowed like cold flame. That even the bears, who feared nothing, stayed away from it.
Father grunted and poked the little fire with his stick and told Tchaka not to bother with it, and that they weren't supposed to be going beyond the ridge-stones anyway. He didn't like them going that far, not since last sevenmoon when mother had wandered off into the blowing ice of winter's last storm and was never seen again, and they knew that. Tchaka said that he had to go where the fish went, and Father grunted again and said nothing at all.
Noula hugged her favorite dog closer and pretended to be asleep. Fortunately the fire was dying down and they couldn't see the tears trickling down her face.
It wasn't fair. Tchaka could go anywhere he wanted, and all he had to say was that the fish had taken him there. Noula was expected to stay around camp and learn how to scrape hides from the other women, even though she could fish better than Tchaka.
The dog licked the salty tears from her eyes and said nothing; but the wind, mother mischief that she was, cried emptiness outside the window and called her toward the caves, and Noula was powerless to resist the wind, always.
*
Tchaka was right - it was easy to see it from the ridge-stones. The blue glow spilled out of the cave's mouth over clean, unmarked snowfall.
The dog bounded ahead, and Noula broke the ice crust of early morning with her stick, slowly clearing a path for herself.
The dog, who had been snouting around the edge of the cave, yelped and leapt back as if she had been burned, four furry feet entangled in each other in her haste to get away.
"Easy, easy, pup." Noula murmured, running her hand over the silken fur of the head. "Come on. Not far now, not far."
The dog stayed fast, her tail between her legs, ears-down submissive. No.
Noula sighed and took the last two steps toward the cave, entraced by the white-blue light. She put one palm up to the cave -
And then she wasn't there any more.
A dog's howl broke the morning silence of the frozen tundra.
