Who

Ibrahim

What

Ibrahim has a nightmare, faces his fear…

none

When

Early morning
It is the seventieth day of Summer and marred by the overwhelming humidity.

Where

Southern Jungles, just outside Southern Weyr

OOC Date 21 Jan 2018 06:00

 

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She flies high, far, wide; she spirals out into the starry night, one with the sky, with the stars — and they follow, bronze and brown alike; they yearn and ache for her, to tangle wings and neck and tail. He is ground bound, and yet he yearns with them, needing to be with her, even now. And yet, there are so many bodies between them, keeping him from her side. He tries to maneuver around them, buffeted and bowled over by larger, stronger bodies than his. She’s there, in the middle of that chaos, dancing into a pattern of her own choosing, laughing at the chaos left in her wake, trailing stars from her fingers, flinging her arms wide, embracing the very sky in her exuberance.

Amani.

My Amani.

She slips through his fingers as he finally reaches her, finally gets through the mass of struggling bodies — into the arms of F’kan, laughing and cruel and self-satisfied at his great trick. She is his , he says… his and Ibrahim cannot have her, ever again….

My Amani… no.

And soon, the morning comes, and he lies there, on the shore, the distant shore, staring still at the sky and craving her - He’s lost her. For good. Lost her to the world of dragons and all they entail.

And it kills him.

Ibrahim sits up in a rush, a shout on his lips. Tangled in his covers beneath his little tent in the edge of the Jungle, he covers his face with his hands, his long dreadlocks falling as a curtain to shield his face and shoulders. No. No, no, no. It cannot happen. Can it?

Not F’kan. He would let her go with sorrow to anyone else, but not him. The fear of her loss… it paralyzes him, at times; why? Why does he feel so attached to this woman, this sweet, small, sensuous woman?

He can’t bear to name it, this feeling of possession and the longing to be possessed. By her, and her alone.

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