Post by Spiderfly on Aug 22, 2007 22:53:15 GMT -5
Arrival of a Friend
(1 year ago)
"I'm sorry. . ." Those two words rang through Lleurela's head in a dischordant tone.
A rush of sorrow burst through her, coursing her body. Then, detachment. Should I ... be crying? Should I be fainting or screaming or cursing or..
"LLEURELA!"
She turned her head slowly to look back at her father. Her father, who had just told her that her mother had died. Her proud, strong, mother. . . gone. Lleurela's mother had been a gentle canine who had loved the theatre as much as she did her daughter. A wonderful woman who had never tried to advance through ranks, as she was happy enough working at the playhouse.
Diorna had been sent up to the rafters to reposition some lights and a rotten board had given way. She had fallen to the floor beneath where the animal patrons sat during shows. Her co-workers had tried everything they could. . . but it was no help. Diorna didn't make it out of the theatre.
"LLEURELA!"
She came too again and finally focused on her father's face. "Sorry. . . Dad."
The older chipmunk male raced forwards and embraced Lleurela in a tight hug, whispering gently to her. "Nothing to be sorry about dear. I just don't want to lose you either." He pulled away enough to look into her startling blue eyes, so much like her mother's that he choked a little before regaining his composure. "Let's. . . go to bed. Everything is all organized for tomorrow. She'll rest where she loved it most."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day passed in a haze. Her mother was buried on the playhouse plot with a small but beautiful flower garden planted above her. Everyone that was a regular there loved her and a fair amount of the surrounding area residents showed up for the ceremony.
As soon as was proper Lleurela slipped away, avoiding the worried glance from her father. Others watched after her sadly as she weaved between the trees and worked her way up the steep cliff face.
Her small form and agile fingers proved adept as she scaled a particularly treacherous section without slipping once. Finally, Lleurela reached a rather nice little flat spot and she sat, staring off into the distance. She looked around blankly and found a few reeds. Snapping a few off she bit them down to different lengths and lashed them together with the grassy tops to make a makeshift reedpipe.
Gently she blew over the ends, and a low almost mournful sound issued forth. Fitting. . . She thought dryly. So very fitting.
She continued to play for some time, in slow, steady cadences. The song moved gently as if with the wind, singing over the grounds below. Lleurela played for her mother, for her life, and though she didn't know it for her father who stood below listening somberly. She played until her fingers hurt and she had to put the little pipe down, and instead began to sing. She sang until her throat hurt and tears clogged her vision and her melodies, until she was reduced to little more than a few sobbing notes. That's when she heard it, a small trill, in harmony with her song.
A calming sleepiness overtook her mind and soothed her into a lull. And slowly, she lay down and fell asleep. A peaceful slumber, void of her horrible sadness, overtook her. It was a healing sleep where she dreamt of the good times with her mother and was content.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the morning she roused from her sleep slowly. Her blue eyes blinking up at the sky as she began to stretch and move. A light weight rested firmly on her stomach and she peered down curiously to find a small pink shape curled upon her. It stretched and moved, and with that two small spikes shifted gracefully above it. The small creature peered gently at Lleurela, it's blank eyes strangely haunting but comforting.
"Who . . . who are you lit. . . Little One?" It trilled at her, but this time it did not make her feel sleepy. It was a simple trill in an interesting note and Lleurela looked around quickly for her pipes.
As she picked them up the small Slithey Tove, as Lleurela finally identified it, hovered into the air and swayed in a happy movement.
"You. .. want me to play?" It again swayed with a slight inclination of it's head, and at that Lleurela began to blow over the reeds. She played for her little companion for a while until the memory of the day before began to twist her melodies into something darker. The Slithey curled gently around her hand, forcing it away from the reeds so she could no longer play her sad songs. It trilled in a happier chord forcing Lleurela to smile a bit. "You're. . here to make m.. me feel better aren't you?"
"I'm thankful for the peaceful sleep la. . last night. If that. . was you. Did. . you want to stay h..here with me?" She seemed to ask herself more than the little creature. "You. . seem to like mu. m. . music. I wonder if my song for. . for mom attracted you?" The Slithey Tove danced quickly above Lleurela's head drawing a quick laugh from her. "Then your name shall. . shall be Elegy."
(1 year ago)
"I'm sorry. . ." Those two words rang through Lleurela's head in a dischordant tone.
A rush of sorrow burst through her, coursing her body. Then, detachment. Should I ... be crying? Should I be fainting or screaming or cursing or..
"LLEURELA!"
She turned her head slowly to look back at her father. Her father, who had just told her that her mother had died. Her proud, strong, mother. . . gone. Lleurela's mother had been a gentle canine who had loved the theatre as much as she did her daughter. A wonderful woman who had never tried to advance through ranks, as she was happy enough working at the playhouse.
Diorna had been sent up to the rafters to reposition some lights and a rotten board had given way. She had fallen to the floor beneath where the animal patrons sat during shows. Her co-workers had tried everything they could. . . but it was no help. Diorna didn't make it out of the theatre.
"LLEURELA!"
She came too again and finally focused on her father's face. "Sorry. . . Dad."
The older chipmunk male raced forwards and embraced Lleurela in a tight hug, whispering gently to her. "Nothing to be sorry about dear. I just don't want to lose you either." He pulled away enough to look into her startling blue eyes, so much like her mother's that he choked a little before regaining his composure. "Let's. . . go to bed. Everything is all organized for tomorrow. She'll rest where she loved it most."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day passed in a haze. Her mother was buried on the playhouse plot with a small but beautiful flower garden planted above her. Everyone that was a regular there loved her and a fair amount of the surrounding area residents showed up for the ceremony.
As soon as was proper Lleurela slipped away, avoiding the worried glance from her father. Others watched after her sadly as she weaved between the trees and worked her way up the steep cliff face.
Her small form and agile fingers proved adept as she scaled a particularly treacherous section without slipping once. Finally, Lleurela reached a rather nice little flat spot and she sat, staring off into the distance. She looked around blankly and found a few reeds. Snapping a few off she bit them down to different lengths and lashed them together with the grassy tops to make a makeshift reedpipe.
Gently she blew over the ends, and a low almost mournful sound issued forth. Fitting. . . She thought dryly. So very fitting.
She continued to play for some time, in slow, steady cadences. The song moved gently as if with the wind, singing over the grounds below. Lleurela played for her mother, for her life, and though she didn't know it for her father who stood below listening somberly. She played until her fingers hurt and she had to put the little pipe down, and instead began to sing. She sang until her throat hurt and tears clogged her vision and her melodies, until she was reduced to little more than a few sobbing notes. That's when she heard it, a small trill, in harmony with her song.
A calming sleepiness overtook her mind and soothed her into a lull. And slowly, she lay down and fell asleep. A peaceful slumber, void of her horrible sadness, overtook her. It was a healing sleep where she dreamt of the good times with her mother and was content.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the morning she roused from her sleep slowly. Her blue eyes blinking up at the sky as she began to stretch and move. A light weight rested firmly on her stomach and she peered down curiously to find a small pink shape curled upon her. It stretched and moved, and with that two small spikes shifted gracefully above it. The small creature peered gently at Lleurela, it's blank eyes strangely haunting but comforting.
"Who . . . who are you lit. . . Little One?" It trilled at her, but this time it did not make her feel sleepy. It was a simple trill in an interesting note and Lleurela looked around quickly for her pipes.
As she picked them up the small Slithey Tove, as Lleurela finally identified it, hovered into the air and swayed in a happy movement.
"You. .. want me to play?" It again swayed with a slight inclination of it's head, and at that Lleurela began to blow over the reeds. She played for her little companion for a while until the memory of the day before began to twist her melodies into something darker. The Slithey curled gently around her hand, forcing it away from the reeds so she could no longer play her sad songs. It trilled in a happier chord forcing Lleurela to smile a bit. "You're. . here to make m.. me feel better aren't you?"
"I'm thankful for the peaceful sleep la. . last night. If that. . was you. Did. . you want to stay h..here with me?" She seemed to ask herself more than the little creature. "You. . seem to like mu. m. . music. I wonder if my song for. . for mom attracted you?" The Slithey Tove danced quickly above Lleurela's head drawing a quick laugh from her. "Then your name shall. . shall be Elegy."
