05-13-2020, 08:12 AM
[align=center][div style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; width: 60%; text-align: justify; line-height:120%"]"Are you sure you don't want to join us, bebé." Warmth was a gentle cascade against short strands of ivory, contrast of moisture slicked skin startling for the brief span of a fleeting moment. Familiar had grown the delicate trickle of buried concern, a fine lacing wound about words lacklustre in the upbeat manner she tried to utter them.
No. Please stay with me, bring back my noche.
Shaky the slight quirk overlaid lips of rosen hue, begun but premature the conclusion of denial framed in the shake of head. Dizzy had they grown, the static hum of entangled thought scraping against aching bone, settled instead for the light press of forehead among the plush strands of chest, at once soothing the beat of heart contained beneath cage of bone. Involuntary the laughter pulled through closed teeth, her smile a bright and wondrous star, glimmering illumination basked in for what time they were given.
"Te quiero, mamá."
Poor the assembled patches of fabric bearing hues of varying shades, warm the rosen blush of many, stark relief stood it against the curvature of ivory breast. In a manner opposite the child of four moon cycles, clean against the mess of gathered fragments of stitched together coat, if possibly not for the extension of webbed appendages uneasy in the manner they lifted with short jerks. Confusion was a cruel needle pressing into the delicate bubble of their impromptu slumber, stream of nonsense syllables parting their lips.
Had they been of a more sound mind, freed from the cloying shackles of slowly parting dreams lacing the edges of sluggish thought, registered the oddity of movement. At first a slight tremor arose within plaster walls, foundation sturdy but not to withhold all that may arise. It was not until the entanglement of numbed limbs released their tentative hold realisation arose, odd the display as the stuffed bear danced along mussed sheets. Finally, with a gentle sound barely audible beneath the growing groan of parting earth, over the side fell the prized possession, unyielding the wooden flooring as they dived in a futile attempt to catch it.
"Tonto Osito," against the bare threads of faux fur that comprised the countenance of the bear was their own pressed, among a few portions that remained of the original fabric. For a time in such a position did Eulia linger, back pressed to the bed, close held osito by both paws and wings. For only so long were they allowed to stay within such position, however, strengthening the tremors that raced through weakening walls.
Useless child, you must find them.
Against their tongue scraped poorly done stitches nestled among conflicting fabric, stability striped from legs reduced to little more than gelatine. Yet they must run. One, jagged fragments of broken glass from a blown in window cutting against their flesh. Two, a book left to skitter before them, brief the halt of progression as they tracked it, unsure of their course of action. Three, do not think, just move. Four, quickening, the feverish thrum of adrenaline gathering into a high pitched hum encircling the space behind closed eyes.
Can not see. Idiotic. What goes up must come down.
Mere miscalculation, what once had been passage of counted and memorised steps drew to an abrupt conclusion, stifled their scream beneath cloying fabric and stuffing. Marred the soft waves of ivory hued strands, thin the trickle from a nose of rose blush, odd the twisted angle of leg and wing. Had not it been for how sides rise and fall in stuttering bursts lost may the child have been, nothing more than a mass of broken flesh and bone uttering a dying cry.
Forth did they reach, fire lacing skin reopened beneath the onslaught, putrid skin of rotting muscle barely detectable beneath the sharp tang of blood pooling beneath them. Against the floorboards opaque crescents scraped, their scream a sudden explosion of sound, everything within them dancing with a reawakened fire. Everything hurt. There was nothing but agonised heat, pain that crept along the darkening edges of their slipping mind.
Sleep, they just needed sleep, they would be okay afterwards. Abuela and Roan would find them, they had to.
No. Please stay with me, bring back my noche.
Shaky the slight quirk overlaid lips of rosen hue, begun but premature the conclusion of denial framed in the shake of head. Dizzy had they grown, the static hum of entangled thought scraping against aching bone, settled instead for the light press of forehead among the plush strands of chest, at once soothing the beat of heart contained beneath cage of bone. Involuntary the laughter pulled through closed teeth, her smile a bright and wondrous star, glimmering illumination basked in for what time they were given.
"Te quiero, mamá."
Poor the assembled patches of fabric bearing hues of varying shades, warm the rosen blush of many, stark relief stood it against the curvature of ivory breast. In a manner opposite the child of four moon cycles, clean against the mess of gathered fragments of stitched together coat, if possibly not for the extension of webbed appendages uneasy in the manner they lifted with short jerks. Confusion was a cruel needle pressing into the delicate bubble of their impromptu slumber, stream of nonsense syllables parting their lips.
Had they been of a more sound mind, freed from the cloying shackles of slowly parting dreams lacing the edges of sluggish thought, registered the oddity of movement. At first a slight tremor arose within plaster walls, foundation sturdy but not to withhold all that may arise. It was not until the entanglement of numbed limbs released their tentative hold realisation arose, odd the display as the stuffed bear danced along mussed sheets. Finally, with a gentle sound barely audible beneath the growing groan of parting earth, over the side fell the prized possession, unyielding the wooden flooring as they dived in a futile attempt to catch it.
"Tonto Osito," against the bare threads of faux fur that comprised the countenance of the bear was their own pressed, among a few portions that remained of the original fabric. For a time in such a position did Eulia linger, back pressed to the bed, close held osito by both paws and wings. For only so long were they allowed to stay within such position, however, strengthening the tremors that raced through weakening walls.
Useless child, you must find them.
Against their tongue scraped poorly done stitches nestled among conflicting fabric, stability striped from legs reduced to little more than gelatine. Yet they must run. One, jagged fragments of broken glass from a blown in window cutting against their flesh. Two, a book left to skitter before them, brief the halt of progression as they tracked it, unsure of their course of action. Three, do not think, just move. Four, quickening, the feverish thrum of adrenaline gathering into a high pitched hum encircling the space behind closed eyes.
Can not see. Idiotic. What goes up must come down.
Mere miscalculation, what once had been passage of counted and memorised steps drew to an abrupt conclusion, stifled their scream beneath cloying fabric and stuffing. Marred the soft waves of ivory hued strands, thin the trickle from a nose of rose blush, odd the twisted angle of leg and wing. Had not it been for how sides rise and fall in stuttering bursts lost may the child have been, nothing more than a mass of broken flesh and bone uttering a dying cry.
Forth did they reach, fire lacing skin reopened beneath the onslaught, putrid skin of rotting muscle barely detectable beneath the sharp tang of blood pooling beneath them. Against the floorboards opaque crescents scraped, their scream a sudden explosion of sound, everything within them dancing with a reawakened fire. Everything hurt. There was nothing but agonised heat, pain that crept along the darkening edges of their slipping mind.
Sleep, they just needed sleep, they would be okay afterwards. Abuela and Roan would find them, they had to.