by henley » Mon Dec 01, 2014 4:51 pm
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ｕｓｅｒｎａｍｅ;
henley, owner of one lovely kiamara; Griever.
ｎａｍｅ;
Centehua Echa - Centehua meaning "the only one" and Echa meaning "one who saves". Said all together, it may mean "Savior". For among her little native tribe, a prophecy fortold of a first born child who would one day save their clan. Though, to her family and those who know her well, she is called Cen.
ｇｅｎｄｅｒ;
Female, in the clan of her birth, females hold more power than males. She, however, was the only female born to her parents.
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The sun rained down harder than any monsoon season ever could, flowers and their petals dove through the steamy air with more grace than I ever though possible. And as I stepped down from the shamen's porch, my eyes met 50 more pairs just like them, as the people I loved most roared in approval and affection. For on this day, I became their queen.
I'd been 'special' for as long as I could remember. From being treated differently by my peers, to the sick and dying falling at my paws when I went to gather water from the river. But for many years have I lived this life, and for many more if the gods see fit. You see, long before I was born; a prophecy was given to our shamen that a white-bellied baby girl would be born to the clan to bring them into the next century safely prosperously. My great-grandfather was the only known member of the clan to have been had such markings, my family was watched closely in the years that followed. For 8 seasons, my mother went pup-less, until of course; I was born!
For the years following my birth, I was given more love and respect than I am sure I do not deserve. I was introduced to everyone, and visited them all until I could call them by their middle names! And oh how I loved them, my people are such a peaceful and open folk. From 13 I felt ready to lead and care for all of them already! But alas, I had to wait until my 21st birthday to take the throne...
For hours, I sat on that day, on my father's wooden stool as a team of the tribe's ladies swarmed about me in a flurry of hurry. It was chaotic and overwhelming, but the excitement on their faces and in the kind words of pride they spoke to me with made it all worth it in the end. Once finished, I stood in the hallway of my childhood home, with one of my larger feather pulled over my shoulder as I stroked it gently. My eyes were quickly drawn away, however, as a conch horn sounded outside my house. I sprang foreward, sprinting gleefully to the door. It was opened for me. I was met with my community, and the followed me as I walked the dirt trail to the Shamen's house. He stood there, holding a crown of simple green flowers and darkwood branches. I stepped onto the porch, and he placed it upon my head with a smile so bright I could not help but mirror it. I turned then, from him, and gave the smile to the crowed. Carrying my head tall and my eyes welling with tears as the sun streamed through the trees and my people threw up armfuls of flowers and sang my name to me. For on this day, I became their queen.
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Ｆｅａｔｈｅｒｓ? Ｏｒ Ｗｉｎｇｓ? ; {word count; 716}
Every kiamara, coming from every background, earns feathers when they reach a certain age. My clan is no exception. Though obviouly my feathers are unique, the species-wide custom sticks. Being who I am, however, my feathers had to be perfect. The clan wanted my feathers to represent what I am to them; their pure-hearted savior... In my village, our 'angels' resemble the western culture's butterflies and fairies, and to them; I'm apparently worthy of such a title. We decided that the feather-leaf bushes would do, and I might wear them like angel wings; woven into my fur once retrieved... And so the hunt for my feathers began!
It took about four weeks for them to find suitable pair from the feather-like plants that grow in our jungle, and when the hunter's returned to say they found the perfect set; they came for the Shaman and I to approve of them. I remember the day quite well, but it is the moment that they asked me to stand before the feathers for size that I remember clearest.
It was a sticky, foggy day, with clouds as low as our ankles as we trekked a few miles east of camp. I had grabbed only a simple, fitted work dress, slightly dirty at the bottom where it touched the ground occasionally, a bag full of emergency equipment that I carry with me always. I remember this only because as I lifted my dress and stepped down the porch, one of the hunters joked; as most of the group does, about my seeming inability to wear shoes. He made a very very clever joke about it, and it annoys me to this day that I was not listening close enough to him to remember it --- Mmm.
As we hiked, I explored freely; you cannot imagine the multitude of textures out there. It is infinitly beautiful; spikey ferns, smooth tree leaves, wet dead-leaf underpaw, rough bark of the dark trees and the soft bark of the gum trees... I love it so much, and I hadn't been out in so long. I become so absorbed with one particularly large tiger lily, that I didn't hear the first time Shamen called out to me from the trail. "Your highness... your highness? CENTEHUA, my goodnesss girl." he crowed playfully. "Bring your mind from the clouds for just a moment, your feathers are close, child." I scuttled back to him, expressing remorse and asking for forgiveness for being so absent minded, which he accept with a chuckle and shake of his green-painted face. It was only another quarter of a mile until I began to notice the trees thinning and more bushes growing along the trail. A few meters ahead, a boy called out; "Over here!" to which I sprang toward with hopeless abandon.
I raced along the path, dipping between hunters who giggled at my giddiness, until I reached the front of our little expedition crew. And then there it was. The biggest softbush I'd seen in a mile or so, covered in green versions of the butterfly-looking, feather-feeling leaves. "I-I..." I stuttered, I assume my eyes were as wide as saucers and a goofy smile on my lips. "I've never seen green ones before, only blue and white!" I squeaked, before turning to my nearest hunter and leaping on in a hug. "Oh thank you, thank you thank you all so much!" They erupted in chuckles and series of "You're welcomes." in our native language. Oh it was glorious, the grinned at their booted paws and scuffed their feet against the dirt like shy school boys. They were shyly happy just because they had made me happy.
But my love for my clanmates was interupted by Shamen's call, "Cen, come stand before these so I may know if these are the right to cut." I turned to him, and he had pulled a pair of leaves out slightly from the bush, to which I skipped toward gleefully. As I scooped up my feathers into a loving embrace, I was met with an expression of surprise from the older kiamara's eyes. The smile on my face weakened, even though the hunters around me began to compliment my eyes against the gorgeous feather-leaves. "What is it Shamen?" I murmered worriedly, still clutching them to my chest. He only smiled and rubbed his eyes, "Deja-vu... I could've sworn I'd seen that exact moment in your prophecy dream."
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Last edited by
henley on Sat Dec 20, 2014 6:56 pm, edited 14 times in total.
haitus until September 20th
not well, so sorry.
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