No one quite knows where Aztec comes from. But no one ever asks, because that is the least of the mysteries surrounding her. There are other things, much more peculiar things, to wonder about.
You might wonder, for instance, how it is that everything she speaks off eventually comes to pass. If she says that it will rain tomorrow, you'd better get your umbrella ready. If she says that you will strike lottery next week, you'd better start planning how to spend the money. If she says that there will be an earthquake next year, you'd better pack up and move. Should this have happened only once, it could be dismissed as pure coincidence. And a second instance could perhaps still be a very lucky shade of chance. But after the third, tenth, or hundredth time, all you get are questions and more questions.
Or else you might wonder, why it is that she always wears those feathers. Feathers at her right ear, feathers dangling from her collar, feathers at her paw. And they are no ordinary feathers. No one can identify what manner of creature they could have come from. Though she walks with ease, the feathers trailing lightly in her wake, should anyone else attempt to lift them, they will find them to be heavier than the largest boulder. Yet, as she sits, motionless, the feathers sway and flutter as though they weigh barely more than an ounce - even in the absence of any breeze. She never goes anywhere without her mysterious feathers, these feathers which give us only questions and more questions.
And you may also wonder, what it is that she sees, staring into the distance. Her eyes are an impenetrable blue, brighter than the sky and deeper than the sea. Anyone upon whom she fixes her uncanny gaze immediately feels vulnerable, as if their darkest secrets have been laid bare. But rarely does she look at anyone so directly. Most of the time, she is gazing at apparently nothing, vaguely but piercingly. Perhaps she sees things we cannot, things that belong to other planes and dimensions, things intangible and imperceptible, things preternatural and supernatural. We know nothing of these things, and so can only ask questions and more questions.
With all these questions, there is no need to ask where she comes from. Or where she goes, whenever she disappears for weeks on end. There is no need to wonder about all these inconsequential matters, for mystery and enigma cling as tightly to her as a shadow.
After all, she is Aztec - no question about that.
You might wonder, for instance, how it is that everything she speaks off eventually comes to pass. If she says that it will rain tomorrow, you'd better get your umbrella ready. If she says that you will strike lottery next week, you'd better start planning how to spend the money. If she says that there will be an earthquake next year, you'd better pack up and move. Should this have happened only once, it could be dismissed as pure coincidence. And a second instance could perhaps still be a very lucky shade of chance. But after the third, tenth, or hundredth time, all you get are questions and more questions.
Or else you might wonder, why it is that she always wears those feathers. Feathers at her right ear, feathers dangling from her collar, feathers at her paw. And they are no ordinary feathers. No one can identify what manner of creature they could have come from. Though she walks with ease, the feathers trailing lightly in her wake, should anyone else attempt to lift them, they will find them to be heavier than the largest boulder. Yet, as she sits, motionless, the feathers sway and flutter as though they weigh barely more than an ounce - even in the absence of any breeze. She never goes anywhere without her mysterious feathers, these feathers which give us only questions and more questions.
And you may also wonder, what it is that she sees, staring into the distance. Her eyes are an impenetrable blue, brighter than the sky and deeper than the sea. Anyone upon whom she fixes her uncanny gaze immediately feels vulnerable, as if their darkest secrets have been laid bare. But rarely does she look at anyone so directly. Most of the time, she is gazing at apparently nothing, vaguely but piercingly. Perhaps she sees things we cannot, things that belong to other planes and dimensions, things intangible and imperceptible, things preternatural and supernatural. We know nothing of these things, and so can only ask questions and more questions.
With all these questions, there is no need to ask where she comes from. Or where she goes, whenever she disappears for weeks on end. There is no need to wonder about all these inconsequential matters, for mystery and enigma cling as tightly to her as a shadow.
After all, she is Aztec - no question about that.
Written by Tar #1249086
Rules
Reselling: No
Trading: Yes
Breeding: No
Reselling: No
Trading: Yes
Breeding: No