[Witches' Horses] Vasilisa
Title: a pause for reflection
'Verse/characters: Vasilisa; Zhenia, Ilyana, their mother
Prompt: 48A "silence"
Word Count: 263
Notes: due to death threats (technically disappointed looks), follows in a darkened room. Prompted by a poll response.
She wasn't holding her breath. If she were, she'd have to decide if she were holding it in the hopes that the battery backups would kick in and the generator would fire . . or to keep her mother from finding her in the dark.
She was breathing quietly, that was all, trying not to be a distraction as her mother felt her way over to the wall by the light switches--she winced as Ilyana yelped.
"Shush, Ilyana, I'm thinking," their mother said, and Zhenia could feel the look Ilyana sent her way. She knew exactly what their mother was doing, too--meditative slightly-too-hard petting of someone else's hair, unmindful of tangles and sometimes of ears. Zhenia had sold a mouse in the summer, to pay for the disinfectants after their mother had petted her ear into her head so many times that her new earring had reddened and swelled her earlobe.
"Alright, my dears, this is what we will do. Ilyana, go and see if you can find any coal-lights around the house--we can chain them together if need be to see by to work on the hearth. Zhenia, go and see to the hearth."
"Yes, mother," they chorused, and she heard Ilyana stumble slightly as their mother turned her loose.
Zhenia let out the breath she wasn't holding and stood up, her feet steadier than their mother's had been through the room, and escaped outside.
She really, really hoped Vasilisa hadn't gone far--their mother would check on her whereabouts soon, and she'd be angry if Zhenia weren't by the hearth, coaxing sparks to life.
'Verse/characters: Vasilisa; Zhenia, Ilyana, their mother
Prompt: 48A "silence"
Word Count: 263
Notes: due to death threats (technically disappointed looks), follows in a darkened room. Prompted by a poll response.
She wasn't holding her breath. If she were, she'd have to decide if she were holding it in the hopes that the battery backups would kick in and the generator would fire . . or to keep her mother from finding her in the dark.
She was breathing quietly, that was all, trying not to be a distraction as her mother felt her way over to the wall by the light switches--she winced as Ilyana yelped.
"Shush, Ilyana, I'm thinking," their mother said, and Zhenia could feel the look Ilyana sent her way. She knew exactly what their mother was doing, too--meditative slightly-too-hard petting of someone else's hair, unmindful of tangles and sometimes of ears. Zhenia had sold a mouse in the summer, to pay for the disinfectants after their mother had petted her ear into her head so many times that her new earring had reddened and swelled her earlobe.
"Alright, my dears, this is what we will do. Ilyana, go and see if you can find any coal-lights around the house--we can chain them together if need be to see by to work on the hearth. Zhenia, go and see to the hearth."
"Yes, mother," they chorused, and she heard Ilyana stumble slightly as their mother turned her loose.
Zhenia let out the breath she wasn't holding and stood up, her feet steadier than their mother's had been through the room, and escaped outside.
She really, really hoped Vasilisa hadn't gone far--their mother would check on her whereabouts soon, and she'd be angry if Zhenia weren't by the hearth, coaxing sparks to life.