03-02-2019, 11:58 PM
[align=center][div style="max-width: 420px; line-height:120%; font-family: arial; font-size: 8.5pt; text-align: justify; margin-bottom:5px"][ she means well dog just ain't good at showing concern without being an ass and only the last three paras actually matter, i got very carried away with this ]
Home – simple the casing cast about the fragile structure, lingering upon the course surface of tongue for the space of mere seconds counted within the murmur of heart, quick each beat as the fine muscle works, tireless no matter the taunt stretch of thought frozen beneath realisation. Amusing the quick breath which may part the lips in its wake, laughter brittle as it rose forth from the dark contours, or it might be the quiet gathering of moisture, delicate little droplets grown large before they fell.
Large the number of those counted amongst the whisperers who felt the touch of the syllables dragging along their tongue, catching behind the pearly surface of teeth, yet always were there spaces. In the dark corners she lingered, longing contained within the hollow space her chest had become in the course of her life, yet dust coated her tongue, robbed her of her voice. It bore little significance the many places she had come to reside within, the twisted roots and the abandoned halls, choked with the light presence of weak sunlight or the mass of cobwebs gathered into thick mounds, none had the quality which allowed her tongue to taste the word she so wanted to find there, fill the screaming emptiness of her being.
Where the heart lingered is where home was supposed to be or the presence of another grown large, a god within the mind of the beholder that held only love. So where was her home, fantastical the idea touching the ragged surface of sleep addled thought, the place she may belong without fear, where her love was no burden pressing upon the shoulders of the one she gave it to. Might this be the place or were they alike, gulf separating them for all too different the two women to be joined yet drawn closer for the simple lack, the misgiving of thinking themselves unworthy of a place of belonging, a second chance where life may once more be held with trembling, caring hands.
Long ago had her weak attempts at forming a sleep schedule that may permit her mind and body some semblance of a chance to gain the rest desperately needed and so her mind wandered in the beginnings of light slumber, warmth seeping through the mounds of fabric and pillows she rested atop. Comfortable was it no matter the darkness gathering in dusty corners she held no energy to clean, drawing forth a veil about the loose stacks of books, yet she was a point of colour, or may one deem her a lack. Pale her body, stretched out amongst the fabric as though from her prone body the structure of her skeleton had been striped and so she held no ability to twist herself into a position offering comfort, odd the angel her body had taken. For the space of a few minutes she allowed her mind to wander, slight the twitch of ragged skin atop her head, beyond the walls the gentle crunch, passage marked with slow treads barely grazing her attention.
Well known was it few slept well, about did they move in the hours before dawn arose with the brushes of orange and pink about the rocky edges of the horizon, and so ignorant for the moment was she of the other, the woman who deemed herself West, a pretty picture she thought well of though short had been their interaction up to that moment. In time Dogmeat may have allowed her thoughts to wander, touch upon something she had not drawn forth into the light for some time, allow the faint traces of interest to gather until stronger had it grown. Possibility lingered there, strange the familiarity in the harsh eyes set in the darkness of empty features, fragments of her past arising though different had her response been, brushing aside the old days for they did not suit this life she was building.
Breath caught, movement all too sudden and protest arose, ache building in muscle not prepared for the sharp twist, the movement of a body grown too old for such expenditure of minimal energy. Echoing notes caught within her head, clawing along the lining of her skull until it was all there was. Pain within the wavering notes, fading until all she heard was the wail of the wind scrapping along the walls of her cabin once more, worry gnawing along the lining of her gut. Minimal was her knowledge within the aspects of healing, enough she may assist in patching up more minor injury if such became a necessity and allow herself the chance to continue if her body gave up, mind running through the little knowledge she bore, for a time frozen. Better might it be if she was not present, going about the camp awaking others who may be of more assistance then the small oriental time had seen fit to rob of much, younger and stronger each.
Ya ain't warth nutin, betta ta fed ya ta the mutts. Sneer plastered upon the dark contours of lips, dark the gaze cast upon her, empty those depths as once they had been, the scrap of a child not worth the energy needed to bring forth the disappointment and rage boiling beneath her breast bone. Weak the memory touching the edge of her thought and all at once she found herself moving, the crunch of snow marking her slow progress, stumbling along with a cry upon her lips. “Wake da fuck up! Get ya fuckin asses out 'er,” beneath the wind her voice faded, words torn at until they seemed a faint murmur to her ears. There was not enough time to contemplate if her call may be heeded, or if it may have reached the ears of others, continuing her path on though her momentum drew to a momentary stop as the decline grew.
Treacherous the ground before her, rock hidden beneath the powder grown thin so far from the spire, points arising as though each an island cast within a sea frothing with lacy foam. Exhaustion tugged at her but still she continued, bounding between each rock as best she could, sharp the inhale of a sudden breath as a rock caught her off guard, leg twisting at an angel it would not be able to without such assistance. Slowed some she stumbled across the dark shape as the sky lightened further, a disc severed near its middle peaking over the horizon, the weak beams dancing across the dark hairs.
Reaching, shaking the limb, so slight the paw finding itself buried in the thickness of fur. Soft. Unbidden the thought rose, chuckle briefly parting her lips before Dogmeat was leaning closer, faltering for a time before she was moving to gently press her chilled nose into the soft skin under West's jaw. “Come on ya big lump, ah can't carry ya back on me own but I ain' boutta let ya freeze. Please... wake up...” Trembling lips, brief the moment tears caught upon their corners before they fell, points of light glittering in the weak golden glow before more rough become her actions, moving to shove her shoulder into the canine's neck. "I ain' gonna let dis 'appen again, ya ain' fuckin dyin on me watch, ya 'ear me ya fuckin mangy mutt."
Home – simple the casing cast about the fragile structure, lingering upon the course surface of tongue for the space of mere seconds counted within the murmur of heart, quick each beat as the fine muscle works, tireless no matter the taunt stretch of thought frozen beneath realisation. Amusing the quick breath which may part the lips in its wake, laughter brittle as it rose forth from the dark contours, or it might be the quiet gathering of moisture, delicate little droplets grown large before they fell.
Large the number of those counted amongst the whisperers who felt the touch of the syllables dragging along their tongue, catching behind the pearly surface of teeth, yet always were there spaces. In the dark corners she lingered, longing contained within the hollow space her chest had become in the course of her life, yet dust coated her tongue, robbed her of her voice. It bore little significance the many places she had come to reside within, the twisted roots and the abandoned halls, choked with the light presence of weak sunlight or the mass of cobwebs gathered into thick mounds, none had the quality which allowed her tongue to taste the word she so wanted to find there, fill the screaming emptiness of her being.
Where the heart lingered is where home was supposed to be or the presence of another grown large, a god within the mind of the beholder that held only love. So where was her home, fantastical the idea touching the ragged surface of sleep addled thought, the place she may belong without fear, where her love was no burden pressing upon the shoulders of the one she gave it to. Might this be the place or were they alike, gulf separating them for all too different the two women to be joined yet drawn closer for the simple lack, the misgiving of thinking themselves unworthy of a place of belonging, a second chance where life may once more be held with trembling, caring hands.
Long ago had her weak attempts at forming a sleep schedule that may permit her mind and body some semblance of a chance to gain the rest desperately needed and so her mind wandered in the beginnings of light slumber, warmth seeping through the mounds of fabric and pillows she rested atop. Comfortable was it no matter the darkness gathering in dusty corners she held no energy to clean, drawing forth a veil about the loose stacks of books, yet she was a point of colour, or may one deem her a lack. Pale her body, stretched out amongst the fabric as though from her prone body the structure of her skeleton had been striped and so she held no ability to twist herself into a position offering comfort, odd the angel her body had taken. For the space of a few minutes she allowed her mind to wander, slight the twitch of ragged skin atop her head, beyond the walls the gentle crunch, passage marked with slow treads barely grazing her attention.
Well known was it few slept well, about did they move in the hours before dawn arose with the brushes of orange and pink about the rocky edges of the horizon, and so ignorant for the moment was she of the other, the woman who deemed herself West, a pretty picture she thought well of though short had been their interaction up to that moment. In time Dogmeat may have allowed her thoughts to wander, touch upon something she had not drawn forth into the light for some time, allow the faint traces of interest to gather until stronger had it grown. Possibility lingered there, strange the familiarity in the harsh eyes set in the darkness of empty features, fragments of her past arising though different had her response been, brushing aside the old days for they did not suit this life she was building.
Breath caught, movement all too sudden and protest arose, ache building in muscle not prepared for the sharp twist, the movement of a body grown too old for such expenditure of minimal energy. Echoing notes caught within her head, clawing along the lining of her skull until it was all there was. Pain within the wavering notes, fading until all she heard was the wail of the wind scrapping along the walls of her cabin once more, worry gnawing along the lining of her gut. Minimal was her knowledge within the aspects of healing, enough she may assist in patching up more minor injury if such became a necessity and allow herself the chance to continue if her body gave up, mind running through the little knowledge she bore, for a time frozen. Better might it be if she was not present, going about the camp awaking others who may be of more assistance then the small oriental time had seen fit to rob of much, younger and stronger each.
Ya ain't warth nutin, betta ta fed ya ta the mutts. Sneer plastered upon the dark contours of lips, dark the gaze cast upon her, empty those depths as once they had been, the scrap of a child not worth the energy needed to bring forth the disappointment and rage boiling beneath her breast bone. Weak the memory touching the edge of her thought and all at once she found herself moving, the crunch of snow marking her slow progress, stumbling along with a cry upon her lips. “Wake da fuck up! Get ya fuckin asses out 'er,” beneath the wind her voice faded, words torn at until they seemed a faint murmur to her ears. There was not enough time to contemplate if her call may be heeded, or if it may have reached the ears of others, continuing her path on though her momentum drew to a momentary stop as the decline grew.
Treacherous the ground before her, rock hidden beneath the powder grown thin so far from the spire, points arising as though each an island cast within a sea frothing with lacy foam. Exhaustion tugged at her but still she continued, bounding between each rock as best she could, sharp the inhale of a sudden breath as a rock caught her off guard, leg twisting at an angel it would not be able to without such assistance. Slowed some she stumbled across the dark shape as the sky lightened further, a disc severed near its middle peaking over the horizon, the weak beams dancing across the dark hairs.
Reaching, shaking the limb, so slight the paw finding itself buried in the thickness of fur. Soft. Unbidden the thought rose, chuckle briefly parting her lips before Dogmeat was leaning closer, faltering for a time before she was moving to gently press her chilled nose into the soft skin under West's jaw. “Come on ya big lump, ah can't carry ya back on me own but I ain' boutta let ya freeze. Please... wake up...” Trembling lips, brief the moment tears caught upon their corners before they fell, points of light glittering in the weak golden glow before more rough become her actions, moving to shove her shoulder into the canine's neck. "I ain' gonna let dis 'appen again, ya ain' fuckin dyin on me watch, ya 'ear me ya fuckin mangy mutt."