For
daemonmuses
Sep. 13th, 2011 09:49 pmSome kids made a big deal about their daemons settling, and the ones Remy went to school with were no different; like a settled daemon bestowed some sense of grace and maturity.
Pfff. Fuck that.
When Beau settles, neither of them really notice, as her daemon had a habit of staying in a large, comforting form for a few days after she's had a rough time of things. She had misjudged when her mother would be awake that morning, and when she woke early to slip into the kitchen and make her lunch for the day she had found her there.
Her mother had yelled, like she always does when she's around, and Remy isn't quite able to dodge fast enough as her mother gets a hold on something, and ends up flinging it at her.
Remy absconds, abandoning her quest for food to just get away. She stops just long enough to grab her bag and lace her sneakers before fleeing out the front door, Beau at her heels as a cringing red fox.
She doesn't stop 'till she reaches school, and tucks herself into a small, out of the way corner, shaking and wheezing. Beau makes a soft, concerned noise changing into a large cat with tufted ears and nuzzling at her. Remy flings her arms around him in response, pressing her face into his neck and staying like that until she manages to calm down.
"Thanks, Beau," she murmurs eventually, her voice thick and rough.
"It's what I do," the lynx responds.
It's a week later when her father takes her mother to the hospital for the final time, and both Remy and Beau realize the lynx hasn't changed since that fateful day.
Pfff. Fuck that.
When Beau settles, neither of them really notice, as her daemon had a habit of staying in a large, comforting form for a few days after she's had a rough time of things. She had misjudged when her mother would be awake that morning, and when she woke early to slip into the kitchen and make her lunch for the day she had found her there.
Her mother had yelled, like she always does when she's around, and Remy isn't quite able to dodge fast enough as her mother gets a hold on something, and ends up flinging it at her.
Remy absconds, abandoning her quest for food to just get away. She stops just long enough to grab her bag and lace her sneakers before fleeing out the front door, Beau at her heels as a cringing red fox.
She doesn't stop 'till she reaches school, and tucks herself into a small, out of the way corner, shaking and wheezing. Beau makes a soft, concerned noise changing into a large cat with tufted ears and nuzzling at her. Remy flings her arms around him in response, pressing her face into his neck and staying like that until she manages to calm down.
"Thanks, Beau," she murmurs eventually, her voice thick and rough.
"It's what I do," the lynx responds.
It's a week later when her father takes her mother to the hospital for the final time, and both Remy and Beau realize the lynx hasn't changed since that fateful day.