3/18/2025, 1:53 AM
The world was different now.
Her sisters were off. Her mother was upset. She hadn’t seen her father, and couldn’t decide if she wanted to or not. Nausicaa had said many things, but her bitterness prevented much of an apology. The sparring hadn’t gone well, and she now held a healing wound on the side of her neck that most likely wouldn’t scar, but she’d forever remember it. And it had been her uncle who had checked on her. Had trained her. It was an inspiring incident, despite the wound, and it drove the wedge in deeper between Nausicaa and the two sisters she was on the rocks with. Did either of them notice? The scab, the wound, the sword? She hadn’t approached them. She didn’t know if she wanted to after their last encounter. Even though she had spoken in anger, they had interrupted her first. In her mind, for just a blindingly angry moment, the words had been more than justified.
Determined, she stuck by her mother religiously, only venturing when she needed a moment to vent, alone. She beat the hell out of a few trees, shredded bark from their trunks. And she ignored everything that didn’t have to do with her new duty. The rank she had her eye on within the new Avon. And she knew she’d have to train for it, so that is what she went out to do today.
The stick sword she had gotten from her uncle was trapped between her incisors, her figure hulking along towards the border. Nausicaa didn’t have much of an idea of where to go, or what to do today, but she just knew she needed to go. To be somewhere. Out of sight of any of her sisters, so she could quietly and quickly rage against this situation as much as she could. She slung her head low, dragging her sword against the ground and relishing how it dug into the soul. This was hers now, her soil, her place in this world. She hadn’t shed blood here, but it was truly hers. She’d licked it to make it so.
The high yips reached her ears, and Nausicaa stiffened, raising her head to listen for where they’d come from. Her ears rocked, to and fro, each one rotating like a satellite dish. Then, she burst into motion, her legs churning, her heart racing. Was something wrong? Was she going to have to fight something? Her teeth ground further into the stick in her mouth, and her pace became frenetic. What if someone was hurt? What if?
Instead, she found her uncle. The one that was her age. She blinked a few times past the curve of her stick, before letting it drop from her mouth to clatter over her feet.
Her sisters were off. Her mother was upset. She hadn’t seen her father, and couldn’t decide if she wanted to or not. Nausicaa had said many things, but her bitterness prevented much of an apology. The sparring hadn’t gone well, and she now held a healing wound on the side of her neck that most likely wouldn’t scar, but she’d forever remember it. And it had been her uncle who had checked on her. Had trained her. It was an inspiring incident, despite the wound, and it drove the wedge in deeper between Nausicaa and the two sisters she was on the rocks with. Did either of them notice? The scab, the wound, the sword? She hadn’t approached them. She didn’t know if she wanted to after their last encounter. Even though she had spoken in anger, they had interrupted her first. In her mind, for just a blindingly angry moment, the words had been more than justified.
Determined, she stuck by her mother religiously, only venturing when she needed a moment to vent, alone. She beat the hell out of a few trees, shredded bark from their trunks. And she ignored everything that didn’t have to do with her new duty. The rank she had her eye on within the new Avon. And she knew she’d have to train for it, so that is what she went out to do today.
The stick sword she had gotten from her uncle was trapped between her incisors, her figure hulking along towards the border. Nausicaa didn’t have much of an idea of where to go, or what to do today, but she just knew she needed to go. To be somewhere. Out of sight of any of her sisters, so she could quietly and quickly rage against this situation as much as she could. She slung her head low, dragging her sword against the ground and relishing how it dug into the soul. This was hers now, her soil, her place in this world. She hadn’t shed blood here, but it was truly hers. She’d licked it to make it so.
The high yips reached her ears, and Nausicaa stiffened, raising her head to listen for where they’d come from. Her ears rocked, to and fro, each one rotating like a satellite dish. Then, she burst into motion, her legs churning, her heart racing. Was something wrong? Was she going to have to fight something? Her teeth ground further into the stick in her mouth, and her pace became frenetic. What if someone was hurt? What if?
Instead, she found her uncle. The one that was her age. She blinked a few times past the curve of her stick, before letting it drop from her mouth to clatter over her feet.
Everything alright?She called, tilting her head.