affame_le_geant_thora's_futile_plea fyn gula woodsmoke from the bonfire billowed into the blackness of the midnight sky, disappearing like the present, becoming past, even as we burn our passionate ideas. two crows, woken from their roost in a century old english walnut cawed out their concern, a harsh strident sound that seemed to announce a scene change in this operatic tragedy. praayli was a zombie, staring into the nothingness her life had been hacked into by cayris's debauchery. it was as though her spirit was hung on the same rudimentary crucifix that couge was stretched upon. she was debased to the animal-self, a rabbit waiting for the club to render her dead. on the contrary, thora, shackled with rusty chains to her sister-in-law, had survived the wanton advances of the lascivious members of the mob, clinging to the possibility her life and that of her husband would be spared, if she continued to comply. desperation finds the previously unthinkable manner of survival permissable, even the mouse about to drown in a bucket of water will stand on tiptoe and then tread water until it succumbs to exhaustion. it was thora's voice that broke the stillness as the crowd parted to admit the mandrill up the snow-compacted path to the farmhouse porch where cayris foxglove waited. "please sir, " she said, and she stood on tiptoe, for she was tiny and could barely see above the tall revolutionaries in front of her. with a voice cracking with despair she begged for understanding. "we only wanted to help the mandrill because of the cut on her hand. it had nothing to do with aiding proina's cause." her plea, hopeful in its intention achieved the exact opposite of its supplication. instead it was the grating of a violin, a bow across heartstrings like fingernails across slate. "SILENCE HER!" cayris yelled, and the attendant backhanded her with his twelve centimeter remedio, a palm held locust-hewn weapon imbedded with six steel spikes. the blow hit her across the beak with such sudden force that it cracked. the severity of the pain was like one having their front teeth knocked out. her knees buckled and she stumbled momentarily to the snow, pulling praayli off balance. she managed to stand up again, defying cayris's order to shut her up. thora, now wild with fury, blood spilling from the fissure just below her narrowed eyes began to scream.................. "PLEASE.......JUST ASK HER, WE KNEW NOTHING ABOUT HER TIES WITH PROINA...!!!!!!!! WE'RE INNOCENT....WE'VE DONE NOTHING WRONG!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "i told you to silence her, tukid!" cayris yelled again, looking directly to the attendant who had smacked thora. "do i have to come down there and do it myself?" he was somewhat distracted as the mandrill was led to the porch floor next to him. damn those irritating flies. tukid reared back with his remedio and even though thora tried to shield herself with her shackled hands, her attempts were futile. tukid beat her repeatedly with the anger of cayris's disappointment until she was senseless. she fell to the snow, bringing praayli down to her knees and writhed, moaning from the blows to her face and skull. praayli said nothing and when she looked at thora's beak, now broken in half, and her blue feathers now a bloody, pulpy mess, she saw only colour, heard only static. she did not even feel the chain as it cut her skin when thora fell. twinkletoes lunged from the post he was tied to, his paperbody striped with the red of shock across the black of his desolation. he screamed forth his protest, but was immediately silenced with a thick leather strap secured across his mouth. thora was pulled back to her feet and had to be held into place by tukid, his adrenaline raging through his bloostream. she wanted to yell but pain was an enemy who had done all but slice the tongue from her mouth. "stand still and listen!" tukid hissed. "let's see if the fucking mandrill saves your sorry ass..." 030217 what's it to you? who go blather from