Post by Kit on Mar 23, 2010 13:05:07 GMT 10
Title: Rampant
Rating: PG
Length: 232
Round: 3/A
Competitor: Alanna
Summary: Alanna dwells on the past
The cat was large on the shield, its gilt faded but pose somehow wild through all the layers of stylisation. This was a cat that would eat her own owl, if crossed glaives could not keep it away.
Kel smoothed her hand over the paintwork, shaking her head as she thought of the blows that might be trapped inside. Her fingers skirted the lionesses’s face, her forelegs and claws. The inward curve of a rearing back. Silly feelings.
“What are you doing with that old thing?”
“Cleaning it.” Kel looked up. “At least, when I’m not daydreaming. I never did do anything traditional, as a Squire.”
Alanna snorted. “Time with me would hardly have been traditional.”
Kel rolled her eyes, attention turning back to the shield. “Why didn’t you take a distaff mark?” She sat back on her heels. The question surprised Kel, slipping out of her mouth before she had time to feel it or know what it might do. “You gave it to me, after all and you were—“
“—not honest,” said Alanna. “I was Page Alan of Trebond. Alan, Prince Jonathan’s odd, runty squire. And then I was this woman, bindings slit and breasts on show, killing royal relatives before the court. Besides, Thom designed it.”
Kel stood. “Your brother?”
“I loved him. Melodramatic little fool.”
Kel took her friend’s hands, and neither of them spoke.
Rating: PG
Length: 232
Round: 3/A
Competitor: Alanna
Summary: Alanna dwells on the past
The cat was large on the shield, its gilt faded but pose somehow wild through all the layers of stylisation. This was a cat that would eat her own owl, if crossed glaives could not keep it away.
Kel smoothed her hand over the paintwork, shaking her head as she thought of the blows that might be trapped inside. Her fingers skirted the lionesses’s face, her forelegs and claws. The inward curve of a rearing back. Silly feelings.
“What are you doing with that old thing?”
“Cleaning it.” Kel looked up. “At least, when I’m not daydreaming. I never did do anything traditional, as a Squire.”
Alanna snorted. “Time with me would hardly have been traditional.”
Kel rolled her eyes, attention turning back to the shield. “Why didn’t you take a distaff mark?” She sat back on her heels. The question surprised Kel, slipping out of her mouth before she had time to feel it or know what it might do. “You gave it to me, after all and you were—“
“—not honest,” said Alanna. “I was Page Alan of Trebond. Alan, Prince Jonathan’s odd, runty squire. And then I was this woman, bindings slit and breasts on show, killing royal relatives before the court. Besides, Thom designed it.”
Kel stood. “Your brother?”
“I loved him. Melodramatic little fool.”
Kel took her friend’s hands, and neither of them spoke.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!