Clay-Dragons In The Snow

[hemomancy 2850]

(Image credit - Gavin O’donnell)

 

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Two odd little things are often seen; masked twins who often stand side-by-side. One loud and bright, the other quiet and dark. Each with a delicate mask presented as their visage, ceramic horns crowning their heads. The twins of clay, Book-Seeker and Scroll-Hoarder. When seen they wander, they step in sync. One's words are often continued by the other, a sentence never fully complete save for one hushing the other. They speak to others at will, seeking conversations and those who may be referred to as ‘friends’ in some form.

 

Upon their travels, friend and foe are met. Some who further their causes, others who attempt sabotage- at least, in the eyes of the two.

 

The twins stumble upon a camper; Northern woodland, with flakes of snow falling from the sky, and the crunch of ice beneath their feet. A man is who they find, an average enough man who appears malnourished and gaunt. Pallid and frail, even with a fire crackling through the air. Upon his camp were extra pairs of clothes, shoes of varying kinds and sizes, and an apparent lack of food.

 

Smiling, waving, the man greets. A tired gaze, his eyes reddened. The two ask for knowledge of books and scrolls, swiftly declined. Rather than leave, they sit. One is incessant with their words, one question repeated minute after minute. And the hungry man lashes out, curses spewing from a carnivorous maw. Elongated canines were noticed by the two. The one tenses, the other not. From the latter, a small dagger is drawn.

 

The man stood, shouting, yelling, the eldest attempting to calm. Hushes to the other, apologizes spilling out. He reaches out, and the younger retaliates. A jab at the gut– not enough to kill, but enough to elevate his rage. The man moves a hand, and a horn of the younger one cracks. The older snatches away the knife, and finishes what the younger had started. Crimson stains the colorless ground, the thing of a man cursing and writhing.

 

One grabs the hand of the other. The twins flee. 

“Was that the darkspawn? The Vampyres Father warned?” The Hoarder asks,

“Yes. It is. I hope they are proud.” Hisses the Seeker.