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mekachu04There's something delightful in watching Crowley watch a story unfold...
Thousands of years ago, it had been an escuse to compair notes, check in if you will. they're wern't freinds, not even privately yet, but they both knew that they wer're enemies anymore either.
but they still ended up in the same areas, over and over, and they both came to know which humans belongs to the other, and to stay hands off as much as work allowed. and.. some times.. when the humans gatehred in big neough groups, tere was enough cover for them to drift closer. chat.
the women where gathered, spinning tales while they sorted grain, crawly 's long deft fingers not even needing a mircle to keep up witht he long practiced work of the humans. She was watching one fo the older women, steady ahnded if not as quick, twll the story of their tribe to the younger children. they were too young to focus on the work, so stories help them stay on task. A few of them would probbaly make better hunters, but they had another year os two to see; they needed to grow a little more, and then to see what kind of attention and temperment they would develope.
This story was one crawly wasn't familor with - a story af how the river jsut south of them was formed - a great serpant had carved it out to trap the rain for the first people, and She moved on mucsle memory, enraptured why the elder woman's words.
Azriaphle - who may look an outsider, but would never be mistaken as a hunter - slid intot he group easily enough, the warmth of heaven helped ease off any suspition. She ment to speak with crawly, but found herself unable to saw a word, afraid of breakignt he moment she was witnessing.
there was such a look of wonder on her face - azirpahle thinks she may have heard this story before, but every group seemed to have so many, it was starting to get hard to keep them straight. even as an angel. There was even women whose whole jobs inside their tribes was to reciete these stories.
There was truth in the stories, a part that azirpahle found endlessly facinating once crawly explained it to her one night. they told the stories to the best of their understanding of the time, but... really, it was a story with a truth behind it. these parables and metaphors.
and here was crawly, hanging on to evey one of the woman's words, as she painted a picture of young love and the first stars, and the taming of fire. So azirpahle sait quietly, taking up sorting the seed from the chaff.
meybe the wouldn't get to talk today - which actauly, turle, oensty, was as ahme. but the compnay was nice, and even jsut existing together was a lovely moemnt. Heaven and Hell would be non the wiser.
nor would the two in qeuestion realise the glaces the other woman gave them, hiding smiles are they watched azirpale watch crawley, adoration open on her face.
Thousands of years ago, it had been an escuse to compair notes, check in if you will. they're wern't freinds, not even privately yet, but they both knew that they wer're enemies anymore either.
but they still ended up in the same areas, over and over, and they both came to know which humans belongs to the other, and to stay hands off as much as work allowed. and.. some times.. when the humans gatehred in big neough groups, tere was enough cover for them to drift closer. chat.
the women where gathered, spinning tales while they sorted grain, crawly 's long deft fingers not even needing a mircle to keep up witht he long practiced work of the humans. She was watching one fo the older women, steady ahnded if not as quick, twll the story of their tribe to the younger children. they were too young to focus on the work, so stories help them stay on task. A few of them would probbaly make better hunters, but they had another year os two to see; they needed to grow a little more, and then to see what kind of attention and temperment they would develope.
This story was one crawly wasn't familor with - a story af how the river jsut south of them was formed - a great serpant had carved it out to trap the rain for the first people, and She moved on mucsle memory, enraptured why the elder woman's words.
Azriaphle - who may look an outsider, but would never be mistaken as a hunter - slid intot he group easily enough, the warmth of heaven helped ease off any suspition. She ment to speak with crawly, but found herself unable to saw a word, afraid of breakignt he moment she was witnessing.
there was such a look of wonder on her face - azirpahle thinks she may have heard this story before, but every group seemed to have so many, it was starting to get hard to keep them straight. even as an angel. There was even women whose whole jobs inside their tribes was to reciete these stories.
There was truth in the stories, a part that azirpahle found endlessly facinating once crawly explained it to her one night. they told the stories to the best of their understanding of the time, but... really, it was a story with a truth behind it. these parables and metaphors.
and here was crawly, hanging on to evey one of the woman's words, as she painted a picture of young love and the first stars, and the taming of fire. So azirpahle sait quietly, taking up sorting the seed from the chaff.
meybe the wouldn't get to talk today - which actauly, turle, oensty, was as ahme. but the compnay was nice, and even jsut existing together was a lovely moemnt. Heaven and Hell would be non the wiser.
nor would the two in qeuestion realise the glaces the other woman gave them, hiding smiles are they watched azirpale watch crawley, adoration open on her face.
