02-08-2020, 06:24 PM
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Too many emotions swirled around her head, crowded with thoughts. Her mind became as small as a mason jar, and she worried the lid might shoot off this time. So she lit a candle, muttering under her breath the entire time. The mutated ocelot enjoyed her solitude, in many ways, but she knew the isolation caused plenty of the noise inside her own mind. She managed to stifle the leaping emotion with meditation, but it wasn’t the solution she wanted.
Rosemary grew up in a witch coven with her feminine relatives – most, like her, mastered their magic as well as anyone could master running or climbing. With Solvieg and, later, Jiyu, the witch formed a mental connection with the other women in a similar way to the bonds that tied her coven together.
And it worked. Less alone, with someone she shared emotions with, the woman became more herself. To stay trapped inside her own head, with nobody else to share emotions with… she wilted mentally. Just as she wilted physically when she thought she could ignore the sea and live in the desert for several months.
With a sigh, she settled to fix her gaze upon the flickering flame. The focus paradoxically made the meditation easier and harder, providing a point for the wandering mind to return to. Yet she hadn’t been five minute into it, her mind squirming restlessly the more she tried to tame it, when the knock came from her door.
Who? The treehouse, out of the way and rarely visited by anyone, offered a solitary refuge. Now that Rosemary carried no responsibilities on her shoulders, nobody interrupted her. Nobody thought to interrupt her.
Wincing, she rubbed the side of her face with a paw, and undid the latch with her telekinesis, and the heavy door swung open. Inside the treehouse, creeper vines and assorted potted plants basked in the sunlight. Tin jars of herbs and teas formed little piles on one desk, next to drying rows of plants.
“Roxie? That’s… really thoughtful, thank you,” she said, looking up from the candle. Recognition flashed across her face when she saw the tegu; she remembered that little guy, how she bartered for the egg and Roxie hatched it.
“You’re not interrupting much, I was just meditating,” she said, the lie slipping through her teeth. She found it almost impossible to just crack open and throw her feelings out into the world. Why did she have to be like this? “Well, I mean… my mind’s been cluttered recently. For months, really, since my girlfriend disappeared. Ah, ex-girlfriend, I guess.”
Too many feelings. Jiyu loved her, hadn’t she? Of course she did, Rosemary knew that. She felt Jiyu’s love for her, held it in her mind and basked in the pink aura of her girlfriend. If she had to make the stupid decision to join the Rosebloods to gain a wonderful partner, she couldn’t see anything wrong with that. But how Jiyu disappeared… everything fell apart. The ocelot’s forked tail tips flicked. Her amber eyes, all four of them, focused back on the flickering candle.
Loss. Self-loathing. Familial love. Regret.
Too many feelings swam in her damn head. She rubbed her muzzle with the back of a paw, shaking her head.
Rosemary grew up in a witch coven with her feminine relatives – most, like her, mastered their magic as well as anyone could master running or climbing. With Solvieg and, later, Jiyu, the witch formed a mental connection with the other women in a similar way to the bonds that tied her coven together.
And it worked. Less alone, with someone she shared emotions with, the woman became more herself. To stay trapped inside her own head, with nobody else to share emotions with… she wilted mentally. Just as she wilted physically when she thought she could ignore the sea and live in the desert for several months.
With a sigh, she settled to fix her gaze upon the flickering flame. The focus paradoxically made the meditation easier and harder, providing a point for the wandering mind to return to. Yet she hadn’t been five minute into it, her mind squirming restlessly the more she tried to tame it, when the knock came from her door.
Who? The treehouse, out of the way and rarely visited by anyone, offered a solitary refuge. Now that Rosemary carried no responsibilities on her shoulders, nobody interrupted her. Nobody thought to interrupt her.
Wincing, she rubbed the side of her face with a paw, and undid the latch with her telekinesis, and the heavy door swung open. Inside the treehouse, creeper vines and assorted potted plants basked in the sunlight. Tin jars of herbs and teas formed little piles on one desk, next to drying rows of plants.
“Roxie? That’s… really thoughtful, thank you,” she said, looking up from the candle. Recognition flashed across her face when she saw the tegu; she remembered that little guy, how she bartered for the egg and Roxie hatched it.
“You’re not interrupting much, I was just meditating,” she said, the lie slipping through her teeth. She found it almost impossible to just crack open and throw her feelings out into the world. Why did she have to be like this? “Well, I mean… my mind’s been cluttered recently. For months, really, since my girlfriend disappeared. Ah, ex-girlfriend, I guess.”
Too many feelings. Jiyu loved her, hadn’t she? Of course she did, Rosemary knew that. She felt Jiyu’s love for her, held it in her mind and basked in the pink aura of her girlfriend. If she had to make the stupid decision to join the Rosebloods to gain a wonderful partner, she couldn’t see anything wrong with that. But how Jiyu disappeared… everything fell apart. The ocelot’s forked tail tips flicked. Her amber eyes, all four of them, focused back on the flickering candle.
Loss. Self-loathing. Familial love. Regret.
Too many feelings swam in her damn head. She rubbed her muzzle with the back of a paw, shaking her head.
waded through the spirits like a flood on the floor
SHE PUSHED THE WATER INSIDE