K'yohko heard his daughter far before she spoke. Her feet stomped angrily across the grounds. He felt their angry vibrations and heard the sound of millions of grains crashing like ocean waves. Louder the storm of sands and anger came until it crashed to a halt some distance from himself. Out bellowed the voice an elder daughter, his own daughter to share in an even remotely similar hair color to his own.
His lips turned to an even thinner frown, and only his ears flicked in acknowledgment. When had it become acceptable for K'nahli to disrespect him? And when had it become normal for K'mih to run from him?
K'yohko turned and calm but strong movement. His eyes opened, narrowed as they focused in on his daughter's back. He did not run towards her, but walked with wide strong steps, feet silent and barely moving the sand beneath him. It was easy to catch up to her as they neared the tent and his hand reached out to grab her by her collar.
With a swift powerful movement, he caught the cloth of her shirt with his hand and pulled her back. He turned her to face him, fiery angery hiding behind his smoldering purple eyes. His grip moved to her neck, holding it perhaps a bit too tightly and constraining her ability to breath.
"You disappoint me, K'nahli." His words were but a whisper, thick and heavy with meaning and emotion, but ever still their normal sound. His burning eyes looked over her face, judgmental and unrelenting. There was a silence before her released her neck and pushed her to the side. He resumed his stride to the tent and paused at the entrance, only to glance back at K'nahli. He gave her a stoic look, but his eyes blazed with a dark purple fire she could not hope to understand. But perhaps there was one thing she could understand from that look. There would be severe consequences to face.
His head turned slowly from his disrespectful daughter and his form slipped beneath the tent.
The dark fire beneath his eyes did not falter as he looked through the tent. His grandmother caught his eyes first, and her frail but beloved form attracted his complete attention at first. But he took in the scene before him, lips pursing to a twisted scowl when he beheld his wayward daughter. There was a poison like a sick burning through his veins, catching dark fire where it traveled.
He said nothing, but his eyes looked down upon his daughter with judgement.
His lips turned to an even thinner frown, and only his ears flicked in acknowledgment. When had it become acceptable for K'nahli to disrespect him? And when had it become normal for K'mih to run from him?
K'yohko turned and calm but strong movement. His eyes opened, narrowed as they focused in on his daughter's back. He did not run towards her, but walked with wide strong steps, feet silent and barely moving the sand beneath him. It was easy to catch up to her as they neared the tent and his hand reached out to grab her by her collar.
With a swift powerful movement, he caught the cloth of her shirt with his hand and pulled her back. He turned her to face him, fiery angery hiding behind his smoldering purple eyes. His grip moved to her neck, holding it perhaps a bit too tightly and constraining her ability to breath.
"You disappoint me, K'nahli." His words were but a whisper, thick and heavy with meaning and emotion, but ever still their normal sound. His burning eyes looked over her face, judgmental and unrelenting. There was a silence before her released her neck and pushed her to the side. He resumed his stride to the tent and paused at the entrance, only to glance back at K'nahli. He gave her a stoic look, but his eyes blazed with a dark purple fire she could not hope to understand. But perhaps there was one thing she could understand from that look. There would be severe consequences to face.
His head turned slowly from his disrespectful daughter and his form slipped beneath the tent.
The dark fire beneath his eyes did not falter as he looked through the tent. His grandmother caught his eyes first, and her frail but beloved form attracted his complete attention at first. But he took in the scene before him, lips pursing to a twisted scowl when he beheld his wayward daughter. There was a poison like a sick burning through his veins, catching dark fire where it traveled.
He said nothing, but his eyes looked down upon his daughter with judgement.