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a-pretty-fire.livejournal.comLife could take you by surprise, even when you were as old as Drusilla. Lines could become blurred.
At first, Drusilla had allowed Honeythorn Gump to call her 'cousin' in order to see how far the joke would go. She needed some entertainment, after all, and she couldn't hunt in Taxon. Eventually, however, she'd started to like the sound of the name he had for her. Glastig. It sat well on the tongue. It floated through the air like a musical note.
Somehow - accidentally, deliberately or because of something the stars had whispered, who could tell? - she'd forgotten that she was only pretending to be part of his family. She had a brother, a father and a grandmother. One day, she'd have a daughter as well as a son. A cousin would be nice. For completeness.
The hamsters had twisted the Angel Beast's memories, sending him back into a time she could remember all too well. (Oh, she'd been so weak after Prague. So broken. Who would nurse her back to health if she was injured now? Who would paint a city red to see her smile?) Godric had snapped at last. (It was a pity that the Master wasn't around to see it, but she'd savoured the broken buildings and the grief painted on his pale face.)
Drusilla was cleverer than she looked, she was. She didn't make a habit of rushing into danger. Her luck had held out for centuries because she'd never insisted on testing it. In his new old state, there was a chance that the Angel Beast would stake her without pausing to ask questions. With his vengeance flowing as freely as water, there was a chance that Godric would take the rest of his rage out on her. She needed to hide.
After considering her position, Drusilla decided to put her faith in the only member of her family that she had left to her at the moment. With Miss Edith tucked under one arm and the songs of the trees in her ears, Drusilla made her way to the enchanted forest and settled down in a patch of wild flowers at the foot of a willow tree.
"Is the Angel Beast still broken?" she asked the tablet, crossing her legs and gazing placidly at the screen.
At first, Drusilla had allowed Honeythorn Gump to call her 'cousin' in order to see how far the joke would go. She needed some entertainment, after all, and she couldn't hunt in Taxon. Eventually, however, she'd started to like the sound of the name he had for her. Glastig. It sat well on the tongue. It floated through the air like a musical note.
Somehow - accidentally, deliberately or because of something the stars had whispered, who could tell? - she'd forgotten that she was only pretending to be part of his family. She had a brother, a father and a grandmother. One day, she'd have a daughter as well as a son. A cousin would be nice. For completeness.
The hamsters had twisted the Angel Beast's memories, sending him back into a time she could remember all too well. (Oh, she'd been so weak after Prague. So broken. Who would nurse her back to health if she was injured now? Who would paint a city red to see her smile?) Godric had snapped at last. (It was a pity that the Master wasn't around to see it, but she'd savoured the broken buildings and the grief painted on his pale face.)
Drusilla was cleverer than she looked, she was. She didn't make a habit of rushing into danger. Her luck had held out for centuries because she'd never insisted on testing it. In his new old state, there was a chance that the Angel Beast would stake her without pausing to ask questions. With his vengeance flowing as freely as water, there was a chance that Godric would take the rest of his rage out on her. She needed to hide.
After considering her position, Drusilla decided to put her faith in the only member of her family that she had left to her at the moment. With Miss Edith tucked under one arm and the songs of the trees in her ears, Drusilla made her way to the enchanted forest and settled down in a patch of wild flowers at the foot of a willow tree.
"Is the Angel Beast still broken?" she asked the tablet, crossing her legs and gazing placidly at the screen.
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