A time of mourning [O]

[Sango]

.[Enter Sango].

A bitter tempest bellowed in the vastness, an unerring gesture that the winter months were imminent and would be austere. Diminutive flurry delimited the stripped trees that engendered obscurity and were analogous to prison cell bars against the vista as twilight matured, casting indigo and raven tinges upon the nocturnal constellations. The moon began to luster it’s face and marginally illumine the lea with it’s hoary touch. It cast-off the tepid sunbeams to supplant with vehement ones. Dreary dark, nothing provoked to whisper in the suffocating grip of this witching hour with its nocturnal supremacy reigning. A nippy zephyr blustered in uncanny spirals as it dips and races within the sward.

Eventide brought the sinister reverberation of beasts that were atrocious. Their sinful howls voiced through the moor and resounded giving the impression that more than one creature spoke. Owls of the snowy subspecies careened their flexible necks to view the panorama, absorbing the views that were offered to only them. With the deficiency of the thick roofing canopy, masses of light from the abysmal heaves fell upon the lithosphere, casting the under story in dark recess. The chatter of various night creatures created a symphony to parallel any haunted realm, with their wicked screams and squeals. The dying and the devouring grunted and stomped- human hunters howling their nightly triumph. All this was melded together in a vivid convection to unnamed creations, something so complex as to never harbor a name.

In the expanse, lying with this empty moor was the doorway of a dead village. Several yards away a sole woman walked.

Form held a feminine frame, stretching to form a human skeleton which stood the height of approximately five feet from the ground to shoulders. Musculature expanded to be classified as womanly yet brawny. A weapon was secured on her back, the eggshell hue of a hefty boomerang that was a sporadic sight to see. Sleek legs where iridescent as the ivory hue of the moon slashed across and meddled with her coloring, displaying a false shade of ash. Beside her a creature walked, a neko to be exact.

Masked façade held convivial bay eyes, which gazed out into the unforgiving distance. Slender arm reached to clutch the tie which held the almighty and massive boomerang, slinging it dynamically towards the ground adjacent to the entry of the Slayer Village. Chocolate tinted eyes contemplate her environs. Nothing seemed to move within the terrain, which would make this female vaguely weary. Variances in undulating pitch struck out into the night, producing the eerie cries of the demons. These carried on for a handful of seconds but this did not mean that they died as soon as the demon’s jaws snapped shut. The echo lingered on the breeze and would travel for miles on end to reach the ears of fellow camaraderie. One of their comrades had fallen to the likes of a vindictive creature.

Footfall was so quiet as to be nearly audible. Perception shifted from the distance to embankments in the ground. The graves of her fallen descendants. Her girlish fingers wrapped around the stems of flowers. It became a circadian ritual but since the fight with Naraku her time had been devoured. Ebony covered feet began a slow but stead walk away from the entry to where her family were lain in suspended animation. Liquid began to structure in her eyes, transitorily make her vision cloudy. She reached up with a free hand wiping the water from her eyes and approached the graves.

Sango dropped to the ground in a squat then to her knees. She reached out and positioned the flowers upon the graves. Her hands raised aloft until parallel with her mouth. Her glimmering eyes were hidden from the world and everything around her went opaque.

Muscles in her body contracted as she stood. Her business here was done. Footfall was hushed once more as her sable covered feet walked her towards the fallen gates, grabbing her boomerang on the way out. A crackle in the immobility of the night took hold of her concentration. She peered out into the vast nothingness, primed for a fight with the creature that had followed her. Her eyes shifted, trying to localize the cradle of the sound. “Who’s there?” Her voice was almost a whisper on the wind but still held an ambiance of trepidation and solemnity. A silent growl bellowed in the chest cavity of Kilala, the demon cat as the sound had reached her as well, making her just was weary as her human companion.

.[We truly live when we no longer fear].

[crystal]

[From the 'owls' I assume its night? though could be a memory?]

"They're dead."

A form made itself visible in the light, moving towards the human with a closed in gape between them. Quickly, she shoved her hands out into the light, waving them as if to prove false of harm towards the other, no weapons upon sight, before sitting down there, nearby a random old building, back leaning against its racked structure. Hands crossed from behind her head, as she stared out into the night sky, watching the eerie glow of the moon harboring upon the world.

Her eyes moved over to the scene, herself getting back up to cross over to the place where the dead lay to rest, a hand tracing the top of one tomb in particular, though it held no meaning to her - see knew them not and cared not if she could have ever met them in the beginning place, it was the thought of the dead, and death that formed her hands to move. Though, and even in her eyes, the uncaring mind set of herself was still there, this was nothing but a simple thing to do, and as she retracted her lower form to a standing one, she stepped upon the grave whilst turning back around, before walking back to her spot. She lowered back down, sitting so that one knee of a leg was propped in the air, teetering back and form in place, the other leg jutting out from her body in a nice, straightly line in its spot. "Nothing special 'bout that."

Dark ears twitched lightly, in light of the sound of owls calling in the vast wild, their 'who's' echoing in the distance, with the crickets chirping all about her, and she lsitened into the silence of the night. The 'silence' was anything but, as life itself flourished in this black hole of a night, with few activating stars, or at least few as she could tell, as she looked up to the sky, and spun her hand, a light rain pouring down. It added to the mood, and it could help some removed saddened feelings, with the hands of another upon them from higher above, as some could possibly view it as should they let their imaginations soar, but her thought was not for to feel the rain upon her flesh.,

[Sango]

The hackles on the back of her nape arose to the frigidity of a zephyr which caressed her face but this arctic milieu was not the solitary rationale for this. A hiss on the gale articulated in her direction and conducted apprehension through her vertebral column. A voice so taciturn, so callous but bona fide. The obscurity gave way to a feminine stature, moving to the fore progressively finishing the lull between them. Caramel highlighted eyes scrutinize the hand she up thrust and extended towards the polychrome tinge of the firmament to corroborate she aimed no detriment. Under no circumstances did she emancipate her emplacements even if she allegedly said she didn’t beget injury towards her.

Magnolia tinged boomerang was lobed over her shoulder and circumspectly strapped into locale endowing unproblematic access to if it was necessitate. Antagonism surged her capillaries at the spectacle of this foreigner who showed impertinence and belittled her departed esprit de corps. This outsider took the liberty of defacing the sepulchers of her lineage and comrades. Her hand constricted turning into a fistful of ferocity, nonetheless her coral tinged lips lingered in position not sanctioning her to speak her malevolence for this Johnny-come-lately. A resonance of this girls voice reverberated through her skull. Sango shook her head hither and yon in a transmissible way of saying ‘no’ without essentially speaking it. After a sustained mo of uncommunicativeness between Sango her lips partitioned. “When you live your life seeing them everyday you grow attached…” A hiatus was engaged and she beheld the graves of the fallen. “Even in death.”

Leaden heavens matured blackness of the night, casting the hoary rays of the moon into an opaque niche. Scotch mist began to cascade from the sky swathing the land making it soggy and caused vapor to ascend from the topography. It was far from hushed now that the rain began. The flutter of forest demons resounded through the expanse and the creatures that loitered in the dark darted for safety. The reticence was broken. “Who are you?” She interrogated the intruder, inquiring her name. Sango anticipated her riposte but before either could converse Sango was alarmed when the neko demon fondled her leg. Her scrutiny reallocated from the newcomer to Kilala who peered at her with crestfallen eyes.

[Ew...this is an icky post but oh well, at least I posted! And yea, it's night.]