07-31-2013, 07:48 PM
Dear Erich:
Silly Ahroun there is no such thing as Sleeping Secretly in Lupus in a tinyhouse. You are a wolf and wolves smell rather distinctly different than men even to human noses and then there are claws on the floor and the sounds you make in your sleep, running
with the memory of a pack. chasing
down small prey animals. tearing
your enemies apart, limb
from limb from remembered limb.
Charlotte says nothing, though, that first night after the second sleeping loft is completed. Maybe she rolls her eyes but it is dark and she's curled up in her own bunk and she's reading something written into her skin in the light of the moon and no one sees.
--
Charlotte does help with the construction and does not touch any of the powertools especially the ones with cords that plug into the grid that lights the sky on the otherside, even out here, that constant, droning hum of energy corridors tended faithfully by an every-moving army of creepy-ass glowing spiders. She would rather use the screwdriver, try to get those screws in as far as she can by hand but she's not strong and oh, there is a reason humans use powertools.
--
When the loft is finished and the shrine is finished Charlotte studies it and approves. Approves because a shrine like anything else is a vessel for intention: we put into them and take what we need, and is also a thing itself, located and loculated and localized. And it is also something right here: something to touch and know and remember.
After that, whenever she and Erich go hunting she will veer off after the darkest-furred little varmints until they bring down something large enough, with black enough fur, to satisfy Melantha. And then Charlotte will scrape and prepare the hide and dry it and take it and if it is not large enough save it to stitch it together with the next one and the next one after that until she has something that is not made of Oil and Chemicals and Illness to offer the Fury.
--
Charlotte likes the odd little shops with odd little signs on South Pearl Street. They go back sometimes, after that too, hand in hand. Charlotte explores and sniffs and asks odd questions and gets strange looks and But they don't buy much, just that silver bowl Melantha needed. After all, no matter how posh the three-bedroom house, it is still
so very tiny.
Silly Ahroun there is no such thing as Sleeping Secretly in Lupus in a tinyhouse. You are a wolf and wolves smell rather distinctly different than men even to human noses and then there are claws on the floor and the sounds you make in your sleep, running
with the memory of a pack. chasing
down small prey animals. tearing
your enemies apart, limb
from limb from remembered limb.
Charlotte says nothing, though, that first night after the second sleeping loft is completed. Maybe she rolls her eyes but it is dark and she's curled up in her own bunk and she's reading something written into her skin in the light of the moon and no one sees.
--
Charlotte does help with the construction and does not touch any of the powertools especially the ones with cords that plug into the grid that lights the sky on the otherside, even out here, that constant, droning hum of energy corridors tended faithfully by an every-moving army of creepy-ass glowing spiders. She would rather use the screwdriver, try to get those screws in as far as she can by hand but she's not strong and oh, there is a reason humans use powertools.
--
When the loft is finished and the shrine is finished Charlotte studies it and approves. Approves because a shrine like anything else is a vessel for intention: we put into them and take what we need, and is also a thing itself, located and loculated and localized. And it is also something right here: something to touch and know and remember.
After that, whenever she and Erich go hunting she will veer off after the darkest-furred little varmints until they bring down something large enough, with black enough fur, to satisfy Melantha. And then Charlotte will scrape and prepare the hide and dry it and take it and if it is not large enough save it to stitch it together with the next one and the next one after that until she has something that is not made of Oil and Chemicals and Illness to offer the Fury.
--
Charlotte likes the odd little shops with odd little signs on South Pearl Street. They go back sometimes, after that too, hand in hand. Charlotte explores and sniffs and asks odd questions and gets strange looks and But they don't buy much, just that silver bowl Melantha needed. After all, no matter how posh the three-bedroom house, it is still
so very tiny.
But my heart is wild and my bones are steel
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free.
- Phosphorescent, Song for Zula
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free.
- Phosphorescent, Song for Zula