#xeula

I've got some older questions that I'll answer throughout the day. But, I'm taking new ones too!

It's TMI Tuesday. That special time of the week in which it's socially acceptable to ask fun, prying, or inappropriate questions to, or about, any of my characters!

But, be warned! Those who ask will be questioned in return!

I'm late to the party! D: But, if you're up for some more TMI Tuesday fun, despite the time, feel free to send a question (about one of my OCs) my way! Embarrass me if you want to. >:3

So many names. So many faces. So many people that she had come to care for — all of them preparing to cross into uncertainty. To fight an unknown enemy in a too familiar world. Familiar but not quite right.

The list of names, of volunteers, felt heavy in her hand as Xeula looked it over. So many beloved, all of them forfeiting freedom, and maybe life, to chase after the slightest of hopes.

A breath caught in her throat as her eyes fell on a particularly skillfully calligraphed name: Mikkaelos. 

He is unshod. He has never, nor will he ever, nail metal shoes to the bottom of his hooves. He thinks that wearing shoes is unnatural, lol, and he doesn't have a problem telling people that (…of course).

He does wear decorative gilding on his hooves for special occasions, but those can clip on and tie without the need to actually penetrate his hooves with any kind of nails or tacks.

Xeula also keeps her hooves unshod. In her case, it has more to do with a desire to keep her hooves as light and natural as possible for dance. She hasn’t danced in decades. Even so, I doubt that she could ever bring herself to willingly weigh her hooves down with stiff metal.

I'm home sick (and pretty miserable >_<). Would you distract me with a TMI Tuesday question or two? I'll send you one in return.

Prompt #13 – Oct. 22nd, 2014: Your character knows she is going to be murdered in less than 24 hours. How does she know this, and how is she so sure? What would she do if the day went by…uneventfully?

(( Another silly moment from Xeula's past - a continuation of Entry #11: Feathered creatures creeping in the night. Mikkruutov is Mikkaelos' father. ))

The drape of Mikkruutov's arm around Xeula's shoulders felt more like a restraint than it did a circle of comfort and safety. He meant well, she knew, but his intentions did not make the feathery swarm just outside their door disperse. In fact, in the last hour or so that Xeula had lay awake, holding as still as she could, more of these creatures had come. They continued to titter darkly, and as more time passed, she began to recognize a pattern. They had words — she knew it. Two titters combined with a gravely chirrup. A clucking whir bleeding into five rapid fire chirps. The rise and fall of music-like tone.