Wind wishes

featuring Illyrica

Summer, Year 766 of the New Age

Windborne, borders of Westhaven, looking out on the mountains

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Stormcaller, Stormcaller,
Call a storm for me.
The air is still and dying
As I gaze out to the sea

Momma's song circled through Illy's mind every day now.

The young hind - the young doe now, she thought - could not stop the sad, strange lullaby from repeating in her head. The song had started when Father had gone, and Momma had sung it to Neyel when he was a baby, and still sung it sometimes to him when he asked... and she sung it to herself under her breath when she didn't realise that Illy was there, or when she was staring towards the mountains with that strange, awful look in her eyes.

Stormcaller, Stormcaller,
The hurricane is gone,
and the peace it left is standing
But I miss it's fearful song

Illy had found herself singing it quietly under her breath now too. It had become part of her, and though she knew she could not understand what it meant to Momma, not truly, it meant something else to her. It was a song about magic and love, and Illy... Illy did not understand either. Not truly. Her magic - she had heard rumors of others who had the strange power she seemed to posses, but they were all as young as she was, they could not explain it, could not explain why they were followed by rocks and leaves or when they were hungry why sweet meadow grasses suddenly were ripped from meters away to right at their feet. 

And love?

Stormcaller, Stormcaller,
You broke the deal you made.
The payment was your life,
I price I'd not have paid.

Illy was not sure what it was, or what it meant. She understood rut now, she understood her heat. She understood why she found herself consumed with a strange hunger, though she could not understand why it was most inflamed by some colts and not others. Why Keet, and not Rafe? Why did some does even raise the same strange tingling, why them? Why long lean legs, why dark shining coats?

It was summer now, soon she would have to bury that feeling once again, and what could she do? Abandon her friends, hide away? She knew she was not wanted. Not like this, not with these leaves flapping around her head, the feathers tangling in her mane as they swept past, rocks battering at her hips and shoulders if she did not think, did not remember where they were and remember how to move them. How could she be wanted?

Stormcaller, Stormcaller,
I'll call a storm for you.
But the wind will never reach you now,
And the sky stays clear and blue.

She took herself away when she remembered this. Took herself to the edge of the herd, away from the fawnlings whose magic made sense, away from the stags and does who knew who they loved and who might love them. She took herself away, and tried to understand who she was. 

Stormcaller, Stormcaller,
The wind  - it will not rise.
The air lies still as death here,
And tears fall from my eyes.

Who she was now, and who she might, one day, be.

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The song is something I wrote many many moons ago and fully intended to record and stick on soundcloud or somesuch but never did.

Roxanne's lullabies were not particularly cheery xP