#derra

Tzoja

Reposting Derra on her own, because being with Lilith got her flagged as mature (how ironic).

This came to me in a dream

Killing it on the red carpet (literally)

Found some cool outfits on Pinterest, went way overboard 💖

Imprisonment wasn’t so bad most days. And on days like this with warm sunlight and a comfortable place to stretch and recline in, it was almost enjoyable. He’d carved this chair himself, hacking out the centre of a ancient stump that hadn’t rotted into oblivion before smoothing and polishing it. The addition of cushions turned it into an excellent spot to nap in the sunlight and listen to what news the ravens brought him. Many of those ravens roosted in the trees that surrounded Derra’s home and prison and he heard the ruffling of wings as they shifted or preened before going about their business.

And then the ravens went silent.

Derra brought his wings in and pushed himself up from laying on his stomach so he was kneeling instead. He sought out where the ravens attention was directed before half turning to follow their black eyed stares. He needn’t have bothered.

Lorai nosed under his hand and he rubbed around her large ears. “The longer you put it off, the more its going to hurt.”

She whined as Derra ran his fingers down to find the gold collar hidden deep in her thick fur before wiggling out of his hold. She sat on the edge of his chair. He hadn’t expected her to return as a fox, but then again he was used to her returning before the new moon. By this time she’d be in too much pain to fly properly as a crow. With a sigh, he moved cushions around and pulled out one of the spare sets of clothing he kept stashed around the place for her. 

“Here,” he said as he placed them in front of the trembling fox, her lips pulled back in a pained grimace. “Your grandmother was here not that long ago and she replenished the supply of sweetroot for you.”

A nod was her only reply and he stretched both his arms and his wings before hopping back onto the ground. 

As he traversed the winding path to the manor, a pang of guilt ran through his chest. Elessia had been here for more than just replenishing the sweetroots, such a deceptive name for something that tasted foul, and then she’d sworn him to secrecy over it. As much as he wanted to tell Lorai about Elessia’s visit and the things she’d told him, he just couldn’t. And some of it was his own selfishness. He didn’t want Lorai to leave. It wasn’t often he got such bright spots in his imprisonment and so he was extremely reluctant to give her up.