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felinefables2018-12-15 03:34 pm
ks_claw) wrote in felinefables2018-12-15 03:34 pm
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Mother Nature and the Muse
This is a three-parter though I've yet to write the third part. Started as a prompt for an anonymous writer, and turned into more.
It had been a coincidence that she had come across the strange woman. The spirit known as Mother Nature had been wandering through these woods, lost in her own thoughts, when she had heard the laughter. It was the light, carefree laughter of someone who was in comfortable surroundings, and it had made Mother Nature… curious for some reason. After all, these woods were not the safest. There were many wild animals who lived here, such as cougars, or wolves.
She was sitting by a stream, with a wooden frame that Mother Nature recognized as an easel and a canvas. A wooden box with a row of clay pots, filled with paints, was next to the woman, along with a glass jar that had water in it. The canvas had the vaguest lines of a sketch, and smears of different shades of paint.
The woman herself looked nothing special. She looked almost human, had it not been for a certain feel about her, that identified her as a spirit. She was clad in a pair of grey pants and a blue shirt, with a red scarf that kept her black hair tied back…
‘Oof, Emmy sweetie, don’t pull on mama’s scarf!’
There were also other spirits, and some of these were water nymphs. And that was what this woman had been laughing gently at, revealing further how she was no ordinary human. Three nymphs had been playing around in the stream, and one of them had somehow ended up in the water. Though not harmed, it was now sitting on a rock, looking very drenched and with a very annoyed expression. This had been the reason for the woman’s laughter, though it died off into soft chuckles.
“Oh I’m sorry, little one, I didn’t mean to laugh at you like that.”
‘Aww don’t be like that, Emmy Jane, but just… the face you made just now!’
An old, familiar curl of heat warmed the inside of Mother Nature’s stomach. She grit her teeth, her hands clenching into fists. It wasn’t the first time other spirits had decided to pull a trick on her like this… but one as well thought out as this…
The nymph had recovered from its unwelcome bath and had flown over to the woman, landing on her extended hand while making thrilling noises in its own language. The woman watched the nymph with a small smile, nodding a little as she listened.
‘Look mommy! Look at the butterfly!’
‘I see it, Emmy sweetie, it looks very lovely.’
“How dare you!”
The nymph gave a shrill shriek in warning, making the woman flinch in surprise before she turned at the sound of Mother Nature’s voice. The Spirit of Nature had not even realized she had spoken, but now that she had the other’s attention, it seemed impossible to remain quiet.
“How DARE you!!” She snarled, and the forest floor seemed to come to life. The earth rumbled, and the trees groaned as their roots came to life, to aid the spirit commanding them. The easel fell over from the sudden turmoil, falling over the box with the paints and causing all to fall over, splattering the paint all over the moss where the woman had been sitting mere moments earlier.
The woman herself seemed startled, backing away quickly until the nymphs shrilled out a warning to her. The tiny stream she had been standing by had been torn up by the turmoil and turned into a shallow creek, one she could easily fall into and hurt herself in.
Mother Nature had her teeth bared in a feral grimace, like a wild animal enclosing on a rival that had encroached its territory. Her hands had formed into furious claws, ready to tear out the throat of her prey as she stared hard into the eyes of the other. Of this… this damned imposter!!
‘Emily Jane Seraphina Pitchiner! How many times have I told you to not go out alone?’
‘Daddy doesn’t mind…’
‘Daddy is not home and he won’t be for a long time! At least bring Sebastian!’
‘But moooom, Sebastian is old! He always wants me to go slow.’
‘At least then I know you won’t go break your neck from some reckless stunt!”
It had turned into a stupid argument for who knew what time. Her mother, in the eyes of a stubborn six year old, her caring, overprotective bully of a mother, had demanded that Emily Jane didn’t go out in her boat without bringing someone along. But she had always been fine on her own! Why couldn’t her mother understand that? She just wanted to be by herself, to be free!
That last argument had been the last time they had spoken properly to each other. Emily Jane had gotten so furious that her mother had sent her to her room. And Emily Jane, in her furious defiance, had decided that she was going to sneak out that night and go sailing, whether her mother liked it or not.
Her mother had come to see her at bedtime that night. Emily Jane had pretended to be asleep, and even though she had tried to ignore her mother, she could still remember every last word that the other had said.
‘Emmy… I know I’m probably not being fair. You’re just like your father, you know? He likes to rush around like you do as well… but just… I just want you to be careful. To not rush ahead so much. If all you do in life is rush around without watching where you’re going, who knows what kind of an accident you could get yourself into?
I’m only saying this because I love you, sweetheart. When your father comes home, perhaps we can all go sailing… Wouldn’t that be nice?’
Emily Jane had stubbornly refused to answer. And after a while, her mother had only sighed, before reaching over and gently brushing her fingers through her daughter’s wild hair.
‘Good night, butterfly. Sweet dreams.’
And that was the last time Emily Jane had seen, and heard, her mother alive.
And now this damned imposter dared to stand here, with her face! Emily Jane almost felt as if something or someone was mocking her pain, how she with her own stubborness had practically caused the death of her own mother…
If I had just stayed in bed, maybe we could have run away together! Had been one of her more recurring thoughts during the years she had spent with Typhan. If I hadn’t been such a horrible, disobedient child…
Survivors guilt only helped to fuel her rage at this moment however, and she had barely paid attention to how a wild wind was whipping around them. She was used to it when her tempers flared…
But it would be the first time that her own winds worked against her, which she saw with her own eyes when the woman suddenly set off from the ground. The western wind had caught her in its gusts, and before Mother Nature had a chance, the woman had set off upwards, up through the tree crowns and towards the sky.
“COME BACK HERE!” The nature spirit bellowed, the other winds whipping furiously through the trees in her rage, and a few trees falling over with thundering groans as they were uprooted by the powerful gusts and the trembling of the earth. Mother Nature set off, clawing her way up one of the trees until she made her way up through the treecrowns with a burst of speed.
Gone. Whoever the spirit was, she had vanished out of sight. She was either a fast flier, or she had similar powers that allowed her to travel fast the way Mother Nature sometimes did. The western wind only reluctantly left a trace of the direction the strange spirit had gone, and Mother Nature growled softly.
She would find the other spirit again. And when she did, it would regret it’s hideous game of pretend.
It had been a coincidence that she had come across the strange woman. The spirit known as Mother Nature had been wandering through these woods, lost in her own thoughts, when she had heard the laughter. It was the light, carefree laughter of someone who was in comfortable surroundings, and it had made Mother Nature… curious for some reason. After all, these woods were not the safest. There were many wild animals who lived here, such as cougars, or wolves.
She was sitting by a stream, with a wooden frame that Mother Nature recognized as an easel and a canvas. A wooden box with a row of clay pots, filled with paints, was next to the woman, along with a glass jar that had water in it. The canvas had the vaguest lines of a sketch, and smears of different shades of paint.
The woman herself looked nothing special. She looked almost human, had it not been for a certain feel about her, that identified her as a spirit. She was clad in a pair of grey pants and a blue shirt, with a red scarf that kept her black hair tied back…
‘Oof, Emmy sweetie, don’t pull on mama’s scarf!’
There were also other spirits, and some of these were water nymphs. And that was what this woman had been laughing gently at, revealing further how she was no ordinary human. Three nymphs had been playing around in the stream, and one of them had somehow ended up in the water. Though not harmed, it was now sitting on a rock, looking very drenched and with a very annoyed expression. This had been the reason for the woman’s laughter, though it died off into soft chuckles.
“Oh I’m sorry, little one, I didn’t mean to laugh at you like that.”
‘Aww don’t be like that, Emmy Jane, but just… the face you made just now!’
An old, familiar curl of heat warmed the inside of Mother Nature’s stomach. She grit her teeth, her hands clenching into fists. It wasn’t the first time other spirits had decided to pull a trick on her like this… but one as well thought out as this…
The nymph had recovered from its unwelcome bath and had flown over to the woman, landing on her extended hand while making thrilling noises in its own language. The woman watched the nymph with a small smile, nodding a little as she listened.
‘Look mommy! Look at the butterfly!’
‘I see it, Emmy sweetie, it looks very lovely.’
“How dare you!”
The nymph gave a shrill shriek in warning, making the woman flinch in surprise before she turned at the sound of Mother Nature’s voice. The Spirit of Nature had not even realized she had spoken, but now that she had the other’s attention, it seemed impossible to remain quiet.
“How DARE you!!” She snarled, and the forest floor seemed to come to life. The earth rumbled, and the trees groaned as their roots came to life, to aid the spirit commanding them. The easel fell over from the sudden turmoil, falling over the box with the paints and causing all to fall over, splattering the paint all over the moss where the woman had been sitting mere moments earlier.
The woman herself seemed startled, backing away quickly until the nymphs shrilled out a warning to her. The tiny stream she had been standing by had been torn up by the turmoil and turned into a shallow creek, one she could easily fall into and hurt herself in.
Mother Nature had her teeth bared in a feral grimace, like a wild animal enclosing on a rival that had encroached its territory. Her hands had formed into furious claws, ready to tear out the throat of her prey as she stared hard into the eyes of the other. Of this… this damned imposter!!
‘Emily Jane Seraphina Pitchiner! How many times have I told you to not go out alone?’
‘Daddy doesn’t mind…’
‘Daddy is not home and he won’t be for a long time! At least bring Sebastian!’
‘But moooom, Sebastian is old! He always wants me to go slow.’
‘At least then I know you won’t go break your neck from some reckless stunt!”
It had turned into a stupid argument for who knew what time. Her mother, in the eyes of a stubborn six year old, her caring, overprotective bully of a mother, had demanded that Emily Jane didn’t go out in her boat without bringing someone along. But she had always been fine on her own! Why couldn’t her mother understand that? She just wanted to be by herself, to be free!
That last argument had been the last time they had spoken properly to each other. Emily Jane had gotten so furious that her mother had sent her to her room. And Emily Jane, in her furious defiance, had decided that she was going to sneak out that night and go sailing, whether her mother liked it or not.
Her mother had come to see her at bedtime that night. Emily Jane had pretended to be asleep, and even though she had tried to ignore her mother, she could still remember every last word that the other had said.
‘Emmy… I know I’m probably not being fair. You’re just like your father, you know? He likes to rush around like you do as well… but just… I just want you to be careful. To not rush ahead so much. If all you do in life is rush around without watching where you’re going, who knows what kind of an accident you could get yourself into?
I’m only saying this because I love you, sweetheart. When your father comes home, perhaps we can all go sailing… Wouldn’t that be nice?’
Emily Jane had stubbornly refused to answer. And after a while, her mother had only sighed, before reaching over and gently brushing her fingers through her daughter’s wild hair.
‘Good night, butterfly. Sweet dreams.’
And that was the last time Emily Jane had seen, and heard, her mother alive.
And now this damned imposter dared to stand here, with her face! Emily Jane almost felt as if something or someone was mocking her pain, how she with her own stubborness had practically caused the death of her own mother…
If I had just stayed in bed, maybe we could have run away together! Had been one of her more recurring thoughts during the years she had spent with Typhan. If I hadn’t been such a horrible, disobedient child…
Survivors guilt only helped to fuel her rage at this moment however, and she had barely paid attention to how a wild wind was whipping around them. She was used to it when her tempers flared…
But it would be the first time that her own winds worked against her, which she saw with her own eyes when the woman suddenly set off from the ground. The western wind had caught her in its gusts, and before Mother Nature had a chance, the woman had set off upwards, up through the tree crowns and towards the sky.
“COME BACK HERE!” The nature spirit bellowed, the other winds whipping furiously through the trees in her rage, and a few trees falling over with thundering groans as they were uprooted by the powerful gusts and the trembling of the earth. Mother Nature set off, clawing her way up one of the trees until she made her way up through the treecrowns with a burst of speed.
Gone. Whoever the spirit was, she had vanished out of sight. She was either a fast flier, or she had similar powers that allowed her to travel fast the way Mother Nature sometimes did. The western wind only reluctantly left a trace of the direction the strange spirit had gone, and Mother Nature growled softly.
She would find the other spirit again. And when she did, it would regret it’s hideous game of pretend.
Part 2 - When it rains, it pours
But sometimes, just sometimes, she feels the connection more than anything. Sometimes being Mother Nature feels like a burden, and it releases itself through the world itself.
Most of the time when it rains, it is a simple, natural thing. Water has turned into clouds, and the water returns to earth.
Other times however, the one who was Emily Jane Seraphina Pitchiner needs an outlet. So she goes to a remote area, in the jungles, or forests or mountains, and lets her emotions go.
She weeps, the rain coming down in thick torrents around her, to the point where she can’t tell the difference between her tears and the falling water, except for her own heaving, gulping sobs. And as she weeps, she allows the turmoil of heavy thoughts to run through her mind, fueling her dismay.
‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?’ She hears an almost forgotten voice ask in her mind.
“EVERYTHING!” Emily Jane screams to the heavens, as lightning tears through the clouds.
The thunder does not hide the soft chuckle that she seems to remember from a time long ago.
‘Everything, dear one? That sounds a bit much, don’t you think?’
“Everything hurts!!” She sobs in response, hands clutching at her chest, feeling as if her heart might hammer its way out between her ribs otherwise.
‘Come now…’ The voice responds gently. ‘Take your time, and try to breathe… and then tell me what really upsets you.’
I can’t because you’re dead and gone, Emily Jane thinks with dismay, and some cruel spirit is wearing your face to taunt me!
The thought of it, of her chance meeting with the spirit in the woods, makes her scream out in sudden rage. Somewhere, a rock slide crashes down the side of a mountain. The rocks crash down into a ravine, blocking a river. The river swells from the mass of water filling it to the brim.
Everything has a connection, the young woman who is Mother Nature and Emily Jane thinks bitterly.
There is a connection to why this spirit wears the face of her mother, her mother who is long dead and gone. And she will make that spirit pay for reminding her of old wounds.
Mother Nature closes her eyes draws in a deep breath… and lets it out slowly. The wind rolls around her in windy currents, and from a southern wind she senses a warm breeze, the smell of flowers and… things that belong in an artists workshop. Fresh made clay, wet paint…
Mother Nature opens her eyes and commands the southern winds to show her the way.
She has found her prey.