Her heart could have stopped at that moment, but it didn't. It pounded furiously against her chest, blurring her vision for a few seconds. It was alright, her mind tried to tell her; it should be easy, she just needed to move the fire, to make it glow against the wind. Their gazes would be on the flames, not on her.
K'mih tightened her grip on the staff and frowned slightly. Her eyes travelled to K'ile one last time, only to give him a nod. Then, to the indicated spot. She walked, not too fast and neither too slow. Around her, a collection of familiar eyes seemed to have been placed on her figure, waiting, expecting something for the first time. It was odd, but none of them looked as familiar now.
Time was scarce then. K'mih searched for her mother first, then K'nahli, albeit her gaze hardly lingered there for a full second. She shouldn't look at her sister at that moment, it'd only destroy her. A deep and brief inhalation made her lips part, and the unprepared dance started with the rhythm of the drums.
The young miqo'te danced for the first time, played with the fire like it was an enemy. She was fragile against the flames, against her own thoughts. Her father was watching her, she could feel it; yet, another miqo'te might be his choice that night. Did she even know about the things that happened in the darkness of closed tents? Did she even want to? As the drums echoed inside her chest, K'mih's dancing raised. It was imprecise, inexperienced, lingering between delicate and raw. And as her gaze finally found the figure of her father, she felt naked in front of everyone.
'Please choose me...' her eyes seemed to beg, even if she didn't know everything her own infantile desires might entail. 'Please choose me just once...'
K'mih tightened her grip on the staff and frowned slightly. Her eyes travelled to K'ile one last time, only to give him a nod. Then, to the indicated spot. She walked, not too fast and neither too slow. Around her, a collection of familiar eyes seemed to have been placed on her figure, waiting, expecting something for the first time. It was odd, but none of them looked as familiar now.
Time was scarce then. K'mih searched for her mother first, then K'nahli, albeit her gaze hardly lingered there for a full second. She shouldn't look at her sister at that moment, it'd only destroy her. A deep and brief inhalation made her lips part, and the unprepared dance started with the rhythm of the drums.
The young miqo'te danced for the first time, played with the fire like it was an enemy. She was fragile against the flames, against her own thoughts. Her father was watching her, she could feel it; yet, another miqo'te might be his choice that night. Did she even know about the things that happened in the darkness of closed tents? Did she even want to? As the drums echoed inside her chest, K'mih's dancing raised. It was imprecise, inexperienced, lingering between delicate and raw. And as her gaze finally found the figure of her father, she felt naked in front of everyone.
'Please choose me...' her eyes seemed to beg, even if she didn't know everything her own infantile desires might entail. 'Please choose me just once...'
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Clover Blake (Hyur) /Â K'mih Yohko (Miqo'te)
