Deaths of Flowers // Mother of Prophecy
Deaths of Flowers
By Edith Joy Scovell
I would if I could choose
Age and die outwards as a tulip does;
Not as this iris drawing in, in-coiling
Its complex strange taut inflorescence, willing
Itself a bud again - though all achieved is
No more than a clenched sadness,
The tears of gum not flowing.
I would choose the tulips reckless way of going;
Whose petals answer light, altering by fractions
From closed to wide, from one through many perfections,
Til wreched, flamboyant, strayed beyond recall,
Like flakes of fire they piecemeal fall.
Title: Mother of Prophecy
Fandom/Original: Wolf's Rain
Pairing(s): None
Rating: G
Warning(s): None
Summary: Kiba's mother contemplates her son's fate as well as her own.
Notes
My first revision. Hope this version is better. I like it better than the first. Not the best. But better. I think the ending needs more work.
Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the words used here and the idea behind it. Characters belong to their respective owners.
Mother of Prophecy
He is playing in the flowers again. He’s awkward, tumbling around on his stubby limbs. He still has his young fur. It will leave him soon, as will his awkwardness. I cannot help but glow with pride at my young cub. He will grow strong and graceful like his father. I wish I could see it.
He whips his head around, reassuring himself that I am still there. A small wag of my tail and he’s confident again. That butterfly will not escape him a second time. He is still an insecure child. I feel that desire to see him grow into the leader I know that is hidden within.
But it is not my fate to see that day. No one will see it. It is his destiny alone. It’s there again, that sad smile mixing with the proud smile I carry. I can feel the sorrow tugging at my heart. A mother’s heart is always heavy when she knows the fate of her child, no matter how light his is. But there is more weight on my heart than just that. My heart is crying as the land I call home is dying. A wolf’s heart always does.
My eyes turn to the moon, the only one to hear my sorrows every night. I don’t believe the Great Spirit is listening to us anymore. But I still plea for my son’s fate. No wolf should walk the path he must walk. The pack begs for their fate. The cries fall on deaf ears. We know, but yet we still cry. We still accept the silence.
I return to my gaze to my son. I am quick to my feet, only five winters in age. I’m still young and would have many litters in my future if I had one. But I do not concern myself with that. Instead, I busy myself reprimanding him for wandering too far from our haven.
“Kiba, I told you, don’t go beyond the lunar flowers. You are not protected out there.” My gaze softens as his ears droop. I cannot stay mad at him. I give a small lick to his muzzle, and in return, he gives me a wag of his tail and a playful growl. I laugh softly. “Go run along and play. Next time, I promise.” He toddles off to look for his lost playmate and I wonder to myself if he’s really as naïve as I would like to believe. In a way, I believe his heart feels the gravity of the path ahead.
He had three sisters and a brother. I mourned over their still bodies. One by one, there was no breath amongst them. And finally, it was Kiba’s turn. My heart stopped when I realized this little one had life to him. He was so much larger than his littermates. And as I worked to clean out his coat, I realized its color. It was a pure, soft white, matching the color of the moon, watching us from above, and the lunar flowers, guarding him here. I realized the prophecy would soon come to pass.
He will save the Earth. He will give the world breath once more through his own lungs. The pulse of the Earth that had faded so long ago will once again beat strong in his veins.
My thoughts of these things are jolted as I suddenly feel tiny, sharp teeth grasping my tail. Although a dull pain, it is a nice reprieve. He’s growling, pulling with all his might. This is the might he would not have if it were not for the sacrifice of his brother and sisters. That is something that will repeat itself until his time comes to pass. Only through the love and sacrifice of others will he be able to carry on.
I gently shrug him off and wrestle him to the ground. He laughs, wriggling about to get free from my paws. I roll him closer to my head and begin to clean the dirt from his fur. He squirms, sassing me for being so fickle. But even as he complains, laughter fills his complaints.
But our happiness is abruptly. We both stiffen, our hearts stopping, as we hear the sudden shot and a shout for help. It can’t be, could it? It’s not his time. He barely even knows how to speak. How can he survive if we’re gone? Not now. This isn’t it.
But no matter how much I want to believe it, my destiny has come and his is just beginning. I look back at him. This would be the last.
“Kiba, you must stay here. No matter what you hear, you must stay with the flowers. They will protect you, I swear it to you.” I nuzzle him gently before leaping from our haven. I race through the woods, against the stampede of prey.
It was a matter of seconds. It happened so fast that I can barely recall it. I ran to the den to find most of my packmates dead. Others were barely clinging to life, but still they rose to their feet to fight. Those that had turned their back on Kiba were now fighting not only for their lives, but his as well. They knew what the Great Spirit had intended.
The minute I cam into view from the shelter of the den, shots were fired. I did not have a moment to find my mate. The humans were going to destroy our clan. They were going to try and destroy my son. If only they knew my son would save them just as he will save the world from its demise. But they know not of the prophecy. The only know of the fear and hatred they have of wolves. It sears strong and bright as bullets bite at my flesh.
I do not fear death. A wolf only fears loneliness, the fate of my son. I try to move my body for as long as it will endure, but soon I collapse. I hear an order given. They will burn the forest to destroy the monsters, the wolves. Fear drives me to rise to my feet. I must get to my son. How can flowers protect him from being consumed in the flame? The fire stings and tears at my body as the smoke clouds my lungs. As I near our haven, I can no longer move. My body is too weak. It’s over. I have failed my son and with this, my heart pulls me to the ground.
There is only one light in the sky. A thin film of smoke has smothered the starlight and the flames only lick at the base of the moon. Following the light of the moon, the sight that is before me steals my breath away before death can grapple on. The lunar flowers have grown many times their original size. I cannot see my son in the tangles of vines and blossoms, but in my heart, I know the forest has extended its hand to protect him. He will live to walk his path.
He will come to be with packmates. But just as his siblings, pack, and mother, they will die so that he may live. He will walk the final steps alone. But he will go bravely, facing the fear of the wolf. He will go strongly, fighting until the last breath is drawn from his breast.
In my last breath, I send a call to my son. I will him to live.
See you in Paradise…
By Edith Joy Scovell
I would if I could choose
Age and die outwards as a tulip does;
Not as this iris drawing in, in-coiling
Its complex strange taut inflorescence, willing
Itself a bud again - though all achieved is
No more than a clenched sadness,
The tears of gum not flowing.
I would choose the tulips reckless way of going;
Whose petals answer light, altering by fractions
From closed to wide, from one through many perfections,
Til wreched, flamboyant, strayed beyond recall,
Like flakes of fire they piecemeal fall.
Title: Mother of Prophecy
Fandom/Original: Wolf's Rain
Pairing(s): None
Rating: G
Warning(s): None
Summary: Kiba's mother contemplates her son's fate as well as her own.
Notes
My first revision. Hope this version is better. I like it better than the first. Not the best. But better. I think the ending needs more work.
Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the words used here and the idea behind it. Characters belong to their respective owners.
Mother of Prophecy
He is playing in the flowers again. He’s awkward, tumbling around on his stubby limbs. He still has his young fur. It will leave him soon, as will his awkwardness. I cannot help but glow with pride at my young cub. He will grow strong and graceful like his father. I wish I could see it.
He whips his head around, reassuring himself that I am still there. A small wag of my tail and he’s confident again. That butterfly will not escape him a second time. He is still an insecure child. I feel that desire to see him grow into the leader I know that is hidden within.
But it is not my fate to see that day. No one will see it. It is his destiny alone. It’s there again, that sad smile mixing with the proud smile I carry. I can feel the sorrow tugging at my heart. A mother’s heart is always heavy when she knows the fate of her child, no matter how light his is. But there is more weight on my heart than just that. My heart is crying as the land I call home is dying. A wolf’s heart always does.
My eyes turn to the moon, the only one to hear my sorrows every night. I don’t believe the Great Spirit is listening to us anymore. But I still plea for my son’s fate. No wolf should walk the path he must walk. The pack begs for their fate. The cries fall on deaf ears. We know, but yet we still cry. We still accept the silence.
I return to my gaze to my son. I am quick to my feet, only five winters in age. I’m still young and would have many litters in my future if I had one. But I do not concern myself with that. Instead, I busy myself reprimanding him for wandering too far from our haven.
“Kiba, I told you, don’t go beyond the lunar flowers. You are not protected out there.” My gaze softens as his ears droop. I cannot stay mad at him. I give a small lick to his muzzle, and in return, he gives me a wag of his tail and a playful growl. I laugh softly. “Go run along and play. Next time, I promise.” He toddles off to look for his lost playmate and I wonder to myself if he’s really as naïve as I would like to believe. In a way, I believe his heart feels the gravity of the path ahead.
He had three sisters and a brother. I mourned over their still bodies. One by one, there was no breath amongst them. And finally, it was Kiba’s turn. My heart stopped when I realized this little one had life to him. He was so much larger than his littermates. And as I worked to clean out his coat, I realized its color. It was a pure, soft white, matching the color of the moon, watching us from above, and the lunar flowers, guarding him here. I realized the prophecy would soon come to pass.
He will save the Earth. He will give the world breath once more through his own lungs. The pulse of the Earth that had faded so long ago will once again beat strong in his veins.
My thoughts of these things are jolted as I suddenly feel tiny, sharp teeth grasping my tail. Although a dull pain, it is a nice reprieve. He’s growling, pulling with all his might. This is the might he would not have if it were not for the sacrifice of his brother and sisters. That is something that will repeat itself until his time comes to pass. Only through the love and sacrifice of others will he be able to carry on.
I gently shrug him off and wrestle him to the ground. He laughs, wriggling about to get free from my paws. I roll him closer to my head and begin to clean the dirt from his fur. He squirms, sassing me for being so fickle. But even as he complains, laughter fills his complaints.
But our happiness is abruptly. We both stiffen, our hearts stopping, as we hear the sudden shot and a shout for help. It can’t be, could it? It’s not his time. He barely even knows how to speak. How can he survive if we’re gone? Not now. This isn’t it.
But no matter how much I want to believe it, my destiny has come and his is just beginning. I look back at him. This would be the last.
“Kiba, you must stay here. No matter what you hear, you must stay with the flowers. They will protect you, I swear it to you.” I nuzzle him gently before leaping from our haven. I race through the woods, against the stampede of prey.
It was a matter of seconds. It happened so fast that I can barely recall it. I ran to the den to find most of my packmates dead. Others were barely clinging to life, but still they rose to their feet to fight. Those that had turned their back on Kiba were now fighting not only for their lives, but his as well. They knew what the Great Spirit had intended.
The minute I cam into view from the shelter of the den, shots were fired. I did not have a moment to find my mate. The humans were going to destroy our clan. They were going to try and destroy my son. If only they knew my son would save them just as he will save the world from its demise. But they know not of the prophecy. The only know of the fear and hatred they have of wolves. It sears strong and bright as bullets bite at my flesh.
I do not fear death. A wolf only fears loneliness, the fate of my son. I try to move my body for as long as it will endure, but soon I collapse. I hear an order given. They will burn the forest to destroy the monsters, the wolves. Fear drives me to rise to my feet. I must get to my son. How can flowers protect him from being consumed in the flame? The fire stings and tears at my body as the smoke clouds my lungs. As I near our haven, I can no longer move. My body is too weak. It’s over. I have failed my son and with this, my heart pulls me to the ground.
There is only one light in the sky. A thin film of smoke has smothered the starlight and the flames only lick at the base of the moon. Following the light of the moon, the sight that is before me steals my breath away before death can grapple on. The lunar flowers have grown many times their original size. I cannot see my son in the tangles of vines and blossoms, but in my heart, I know the forest has extended its hand to protect him. He will live to walk his path.
He will come to be with packmates. But just as his siblings, pack, and mother, they will die so that he may live. He will walk the final steps alone. But he will go bravely, facing the fear of the wolf. He will go strongly, fighting until the last breath is drawn from his breast.
In my last breath, I send a call to my son. I will him to live.
See you in Paradise…