A Bit(e) of Bad Blood
Recently I have been trying to strengthen ties with family and friends so I don't end up estranging them as I had my wife and so I found myself with my newly found sister, Amara, in Australia. She's been a bit delicate lately, what with her condition: being preggies with triplets.
So there we are, me taking careful measured steps in a sea of tents, she waddling alongside, her tummy leading the way. We weren't talking much, rather enjoying a sibling's company. What conversation we did have revolved around her angst over her swollen figure and whether or not she looked like a beached whale. I've noticed this happens when women get preggers. Of course I tell her that she doesn't, not even close to that. A beached whale collapses under its own weight eventually in a kind of squishy mess, and she's in no danger of that. Tartarus, Amara looks no different to me than when she left Ithaca on her travels those 40+ years ago and here I am, wrinkled, hair retreating...bugger. Ah well, such is life.
I kept on with the reasuring when I heard a thump behind me, the same kind of thump a pregnant woman with triplets makes. I turned around and there she was, my sister, flat on her back. She had fainted. No matter how much water I poured on her, she wasn't coming around. Now at this point I wasn't using my head because I lifted her into my arms and carried her all the way from Melbourne to an island off of Africa until my back gave out. In retrospect, a homunculus would have done a fairer job and did it with less protest of my bones.
Along the way I managed to snag two doctors to attended to my catatonic sister: one, Doctor Fancy (actually the de'Dannan family doctor who delivered me and my sisters decades ago) and the other, Razael, a otherworldly doctor that I hadn't met before.
Now theories abounded during those first few minutes; maybe Amara hadn't eaten recently; maybe there was some kind of desease that was affecting her; maybe she was possessed. The latter seemed to be the direction everyone was leaning towards, especially after Amara sprung up and proceeded to completely slap us around, biting all three of us until we were finally able to subdue her.
Once her bloodlust had subsided, we learned that she had gotten into some bad blood. Guess whose? Krug. I would have hoped my sister would have had more sense than to take a bite out of that...whatever that thing is, but this was, I'm sure, a lesson learned. Considering she's about ready to pop, she really needs to take better care of herself.
-Rowane de'Dannan
So there we are, me taking careful measured steps in a sea of tents, she waddling alongside, her tummy leading the way. We weren't talking much, rather enjoying a sibling's company. What conversation we did have revolved around her angst over her swollen figure and whether or not she looked like a beached whale. I've noticed this happens when women get preggers. Of course I tell her that she doesn't, not even close to that. A beached whale collapses under its own weight eventually in a kind of squishy mess, and she's in no danger of that. Tartarus, Amara looks no different to me than when she left Ithaca on her travels those 40+ years ago and here I am, wrinkled, hair retreating...bugger. Ah well, such is life.
I kept on with the reasuring when I heard a thump behind me, the same kind of thump a pregnant woman with triplets makes. I turned around and there she was, my sister, flat on her back. She had fainted. No matter how much water I poured on her, she wasn't coming around. Now at this point I wasn't using my head because I lifted her into my arms and carried her all the way from Melbourne to an island off of Africa until my back gave out. In retrospect, a homunculus would have done a fairer job and did it with less protest of my bones.
Along the way I managed to snag two doctors to attended to my catatonic sister: one, Doctor Fancy (actually the de'Dannan family doctor who delivered me and my sisters decades ago) and the other, Razael, a otherworldly doctor that I hadn't met before.
Now theories abounded during those first few minutes; maybe Amara hadn't eaten recently; maybe there was some kind of desease that was affecting her; maybe she was possessed. The latter seemed to be the direction everyone was leaning towards, especially after Amara sprung up and proceeded to completely slap us around, biting all three of us until we were finally able to subdue her.
Once her bloodlust had subsided, we learned that she had gotten into some bad blood. Guess whose? Krug. I would have hoped my sister would have had more sense than to take a bite out of that...whatever that thing is, but this was, I'm sure, a lesson learned. Considering she's about ready to pop, she really needs to take better care of herself.
-Rowane de'Dannan
As your older brother, by one minute, I just feel it's my job to look after you. :) Love you sis.
Posted by
Rowane de'Dannan |
7:30 PM
Doctor Fancy delivered you as well? She hold her age remarkably then, Your Majesty
Posted by
Ari Leonte |
3:01 PM