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Papersword

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Breton (Deer-kin? Hagraven experiment? Avatar of Kyne?); Child of the Forsworn; Witch of the Wilds; Shaper of Mundus; Vanguard of the Old Ways; Lover of Beasts. Literally so cute it hurts.

 

Of uncertain birth and placed in the care of the Forsworn of Druadach Redoubt by the Hagravens, Ayala was raised in the crags and canyons of the Reach. Drawn to the company of the animal denizens more than that of Man or Mer, her presence in camp was much derided by the sworn adversaries of the Nords. She was an undue burden, spending little time assisting the struggle of the Bretons, but could not be dumped in the den of a sabercat or bear for fear of the wrath of the Matriarchs... Though the ferocious animals were unlikely to harm her regardless.

 

Spoiler

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By the time Ayala came of age, the pit of resentment had filled and fermented a vile morass. Years spent feeding, sheltering, and caring for hands that did no toil, raised no blade in defiance, and cared not for the warband beyond child-like displays of mirth and friendship were taken into cold account. The Briar-Heart vanguard of the tribe tallied a hard calculous of debt owed. Whatever scheme she was destined for had been little conveyed and likely forgotten in the infinite esoteric plotting of the Matriarchs. Ayala would now be useful. Resentment spilled onto the packed earth of the cavern retreat, thick ropes of sticky hate, determined exertion to make use of the useless, breathless toil in the night. 

 

A child was conceived.  

 

Spoiler

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Ayala did not understand. When her family spoke of violence against the tall fair men with their golden hair and strange dress, she did not understand. When those same men shouted hateful words and brandished sharp tools and clenched fists during her walks along the rocky trails, she did not understand. When she was told harsh cruel words for laying in the warm furs and hot breath of her family that walked close to the earth, she could not understand. When they came to her that night, pretending to be the warmth she knew, Ayala understood.

 

Broken and alone, she left. 

 

Spoiler

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For a time, Ayala wandered. Through the crags of the Reach, over rivers bursting with sweet salmon, past homes of shaped timber with their warm windows and cold faces. Most that wandered the road as she did paid her no mind. This was not to say that they were friendly; a strange girl that attracted beasts was not to be spoken to. Travelers had more to concern themselves with in the steep valleys of Markarth's hinterland.  Ayala had discarded the warm furs she had worn all her life and traded them for a thin thing woven of plant fibre and none too warm. The old outfit, stitched with love and care, reeked of pain, loss, and seed. 

 

Something called distantly to Ayala as she walked. A bright airy voice that flitted on the wind. It pricked her ears and jostled something deep within her as she slept. The words it spoke were old and deep, half remembered when she woke. Whiterun. The Gildergreen. Danica. 

 

 

Spoiler

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Foot followed foot, over hills, across hard stone, into a vast plain so large, so inconceivable, Ayala feared she would trip and fall and drown in the sea of grass. Or, perhaps she would be pulled into the sky forever and ever with nothing to hold on to. All around there was space, and it was terrifying. Anxiety and panic nipped her heels all the way to the gates of Whiterun. Not even the utter fear of so many faces, so much bustle and hustle and shouting and scowling, could dampen the relief Ayala felt as she became enclosed again in walls. They were shaped by Man and Mer, but at least they were walls. 

The Voice was strong here. Less a kiss on the wind, now a rumble of stone, words winding like roots into her mind. A suggestion of damp darkness, of soil...? There was something else in the undercurrent, something slick, something sweet, something deep to match the place it touched within her. Danica, priestess of Kynareth, spoke no hint of deep roots only air and light. But, she took Ayala in. So began her time as an acolyte of Kyne.  

 

Spoiler

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Ayala's belly swelled and with it her knowledge of ritual and magic. Her duties to the temple took her all across Whiterun Hold. To the people she ministered the grace of Kyne, to the Jarl she lent her skill in shaping nature, to the wild she gave more besides. Danica would preach at length on the latter, words and words and words of Kynareth this, Divine that, Holy Union, Sacred Pact. So much to say, yet none of it meant anything to Ayala. She acted as she always had. It brought her warmth in this place of broken stone and dead trees. Perhaps Danica pontificated so lengthily for the benefit of those shocked pilgrims that frequented the Temple. Eyes hard, faces fashioned into masks of disapproval. Ayala heard them speak too of nature, but she knew they understood little.

 

Not like she did. 

 

Spoiler

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When the child came, Ayala felt guilty and ashamed. Not for the circumstances of it's conception, Danica made no inquiry. She only tended to the delivery in her gentle way. No, Ayala was ashamed for her disappointment. The baby was pink and soft and hairless. It had ears that rounded, teeth blunt and short, fingers with delicate little tips. In all ways wonderful and precious. That thing, that dark, damp, earthy pit within Ayala craved the feeling of fur as she laid her lips on the cheek of her baby. Or, maybe that was what Ayala craved.

 

Slick, hard, flexible, those were the feelings that welled in the recesses of her mind. She pushed these thoughts back down, away from the soft thing in her arms, away and away, for fear Danica might sense them. To the Reach she would return this child. Without fur, without the wild in it, or whatever else besides, it was unwelcome. Ayala loved it in some small way, but it belonged to the crags and it would be returned. A debt repaid. 

 

Edited by Papersword

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3 hours ago, SleepyMonster said:
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20210918205320_1.jpg.8372f8986e76735edeebd443ccd59d5d.jpg

cute!


I know, right? I think this is one of my favourite photos. I think I'm going to spend some time today and update the blog with more pictures as well as some context for Ayala's journey. 

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On 10/20/2021 at 11:12 AM, Papersword said:

I think this is one of my favourite photos. I think I'm going to spend some time today and update the blog with more pictures as well as some context for Ayala's journey. 

Same here. I hope she gets more stage time ?

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