Every place has a guardian

Since moving to the city Peninnah had forced herself to walk. Now, a year later she found that she could take long walks during the early afternoon when the streets were busy and she could be among people. This afternoon she had turned toward Central Park. She had Agatha in a shoulder bag that her Sunday school group had purchased as a Valentine’s gift. The bag was emblazoned with the Breast Cancer Awareness ribbon because, as the children had told her, they knew she would want anything spent to go to a good cause. Saving lives was one she approved of. In fact, she thought much of her work was life saving even when it was just a moment speaking with someone. All interactions had the potential to improve the life of another.

With that thought still in her mind Peninnah sat on a bench and let Agatha out of her bag. The eager dog bounded several feet away yapping. Peninnah tossed the ball but her mind was elsewhere. She had been in the United States for sometime now. Most of her life was spent wandering. To find a post was a careful job and until Julien’s she had not found a place she belonged. That did not mean she pasted the chance to fulfill her duty.

The day she remembered had passed several years now and surely for those around her it was a lifetime ago. For Peninnah it was as fresh as yesterday. It was a park not unlike this one but in a different city. It was west of here and colder than it was today. She was walking in the midmorning toward the train station to take a trip back east. In the park she saw a man with a crowd about him. At first she had not understood but meaning came quickly.

He was young and his arm was missing but in the other he held a gun. He was not threatening the crowd. The gun was held to his own head as he cried. The words made no sense but that did not remove him from her desire to aid him. Peninnah passed through the crowd to the front. No one moved out of fear or the desire to not be involved. She did not understand but stepped foreward anyway.

“Don’t.” He seemed oddly more fearful than angry. He was sad, not dangerous. Peninnah’s heart went out to him.

“I will not harm you.” Peninnah slowed and lowered her head piece to show her face. “I’ve come to help.”

Fear, terror like Peninnah had rarely felt poured off of him. With those feelings came images of foliage and war. She understood now. “You’re safe.”

He backed away and Penninah stayed in place. “Please. I will not harm you.”

He watched her uncertain more of those behind her than the woman who claimed to be there to aid him. “Give me the gun.”

She held out her hand and took another step forward. He didn’t move this time. “I will help you but you must trust me.”

Peninnah took a different tactic when there was no response. She opened her heart to him and let him feel what she was. His resolve faltered as she came closer. “Put the gun down.” She asked one more time.

This time he dropped the gun and as she approached he fell into her sobbing. She could see in his heart and mind. He had seen horrors in the life that few others would be able to imagine. She wrapped her arms around him and sank to the ground with the man who had only moments before held a gun to his head.

“It will get better with time. There are many who still have faith in you.”

Peninnah had remembered him many times since that day. She wondered if he had ever found the help that he needed. There was no way she could know. Peninnah had memories but she never had asked his name.

Her thoughts were interrupted by as sharp yip and a tug on the sleeve. Forgetting the past she picked up the ball and tossed it for her dog. Perhaps someday she would see him again.


Wrods: 702

In reference to this thread. I do not intend to step on any mun toes by including mentions of muses. If I have I apologize.



It was a busy day from the start. Peninnah had received more food than her meager fridge could support. With luck it had remained cold enough that she could store some of the items in the small garden shed where the freezing weather would serve as refrigeration unit until it was time to cook. With the aid of Tara, Tina and Addie she had prepared a food service fit for a banquet hall. She had the pies which had been donated as well as the pineapple. The pineapple she had cleaned and placed into a storage container. With the monetary donations she had purchased several more to ensure there was ample to give to all of the troops.

With the turkeys, which she had left to the other women as she had not made one before she prepared several sides. Green beans, mash potatoes and candied yams which she had learned from the others were the traditional Thanksgiving meal components. On the suggestion of one young woman who had left a large sum of money Peninnah bought wine for the men. It was something she had thought of prior to the donation but had not had the money to acquire it. In addition she purchased milk and juice as she did not know if all the soldiers or in fact any of them drank wine. Addie had prepared other vegetables. Studiously Peninnah had observed all the cooking that went on though most of the turkeys had been taken home by those who wished to help and cooked in their homes the night before. One small oven she learned would not be sufficient to get the seven turkeys cooked in time.

When the oven was free Peninnah made several dozen fresh dinner rolls and finally the gravy. All of the items were then placed in appropriate containers and boxed up to await the soldiers who were to arrive and take them to the rest of the unit. The whole process, despite being over a day and a half of work left Peninnah with a grateful and fulfilled feeling. For her, helping those in need was more important than breath. To aid those who gave their time and often lives freely to protect others was that much more important. She had once been a warrior. She was a protector and had fought in many wars. She had seen those near to her die and though she did not go a field to fight she was well aware of the affects of war on those who returned.

She thanked those who helped prepare the food, offering them cocoa and cookies. They were of course welcome to stay or leave as they wished. She understood they too had families perhaps to spend the holidays with. Peninnah had nothing but Agatha and her duties though she was still cooking. Not only the soldiers did she tend to but there were plans to serve the homeless as well this evening. Peninnah did not believe charity could end and for one who did not judge or require sleep the opportunities for generosity were nearly limitless. Still it was one task at a time and so she relaxed to wait for the soldier she had spoke to to arrive and collect their dinner.

Words: 545

I... I can not believe you ask such questions. Why ever would one want to know? I suppose perhaps that I am so covered that curiosity has taken hold and constructed this very inappropriate questions. Blushes every shade of red known to man.

Very well, I will tell you what you wish. My skin is uniformly a medium olive as I do not tan, the color never changes. All of my hair is also uniformly charcoal colored. I have light grey eyes.

I do not know where to begin the description…. Perhaps I worry too much of this question?

I believe I am five foot one inch tall and approximately 125 lbs but I am not certain of either measurement. I am female and possess all the bodily structures of a human female plus those of my own kind which I shall have to describe.

I believe I shall start at my head. It seems logical and will ensure I do not leave anything out.

I have thick, slightly curled hair that reaches my mid back. My face is heart shaped and others often say I have large eyes and full lips though I do not give it much heed. I also have long eyelashes which is an adaptation for my duties.

Overall I am a thin rather boyish woman. I have little curve and my breasts are quite small compared to many of the women I see here in New York. I am not ashamed of how I appear. My hands have long fingers and nails. The palms are scarred from my duties as are the soles of my feet. My arms are slender but not skinny. My duties require I am well muscled despite my size. My stomach is flat and muscled. I have attempted to discern a quantity that would explain them better my upper proportions as humans seem very preoccupied with them and I believe the term is B cup but I am uncertain.

My wings are large and attach inside and below the shoulder blades. My wings also have shoulder blades so I am not certain how to describe the appearance of my back. The wings themselves are thin and bat-like and coated with thin soft fur which silences my flight much as the feathers of an owl silence theirs. The fur is a dark grey and longer on the ribs and along the trailing edge of the wing. I also possess four small clawed fingers at the wrist of each wing. They are of the same coloration as the wings but the claws are of a lighter grey shade.

As I have said previously I have little curve to my waist and hips but I believe I appear feminine. I do have a tail. It is a continuation of the spine which exits just above the buttocks. It is lion-like in appearance and covered in the same shaggy coat as the wings. The tuft upon the end is of a pale grey closer to that of my eyes than the dark fur. As to length I am uncertain but if I do not hold it up the tuft and several inches of the tail will drag upon the ground.
I believe my legs are the best muscled part of my body. They appear as human until the mid shin. Below this point they are as the paws of a great cat. The fur also starts at mid-shin and is shorter at the front of the leg than the rear. All of the fur is of course black but my feet are mottled with a tawny color. The foot is broad with retractable black claws. The soles are padded and well furred making my foot steps silent.

I am not certain there is anything else to know. If I have forgotten something of human standards please bring it to my attention and I will try to describe it as well.



words: 658

Though many would not believe in such, I can forgive anything. Perhaps that is misleading. I do not feel it is my place to deem what must be forgiven. God alone has the right to tell us when we must repent and when we are free of need. My duties are to offer what I can. I often help others find forgiveness for what they believe requires it. I do not however tell them they need to ask for it from God, myself or any other. That is not my place to say.

Perhaps though there is a measure of something that I have yet to forgive. I can not forgive myself for failing Him. My church will forever be in ruins as the rubble now stands as a monument to those Britain lost to World War II. There is a constant reminder for me that I still have much to do in order to find forgiveness. There is still the grave which marks the resting place of the man I failed. Sometimes I wonder if he has forgiven me for allowing him to die. That is something I may never know. I do hope he has found that in his heart. I should think after having known him that I have not faltered his heart. He would not blame me for trying and failing. I can not say if God has forgiven my lapse in duties. I do know I have still to forgive myself. I can not abide my own failing.

There is the truth of the one thing I can not forgive. While I can forgive others of any transgression, turn a blind eye to their deeds, I can not do the same for myself. I can not find the strength to forgive my own shortcomings. Perhaps that will come with time. It has been only a short few years by my life since my failure lead to my punishment. Sixty years are not many to find the solace I seek. I can only hope time will soften my feelings and provide me with a means to once again be content with myself.


Words: 356

Notes: on_holy_ground (Darius) was used with mun permission. This piece does not exist in any time line and is so AU it is in another galaxy. Written for the twisted desires of catwoman28

2008.2) "If you wait to do everything until you're sure it's right, you'll probably never do much of anything." - Win Borden

( Sin Among the Pious )

Everything had rules, a set of duties to be fulfilled when the time came. Sacred Eyes had long been quiet on her perch over the church doors. Nothing had been amiss to disturb her slumber though nothing within her sights went unnoticed over the long years. So long had she remained still that lichen had begin to grow on her body but it was not unwelcome. She preferred to go unnoticed. If she was unmoving then there was peace.

This day however brought the smell of blood with the morning sunrise. Her nostrils flared at the scent bring with it the chain reaction that would lead her to full mobility. Something was not right this daybreak. It was not within the churchyard but it was not far either.

Her toes stretched allowing the razor sharp claws to extend for the first time in well near a century. The time had not seemed long or short but like any cat waking from a sunny slumber stretching was the first order. Sounds came with the scent on the air, clashing swords ringing in the mist hung hills. It was growing closer to her through the morning.

Light paws left no traces as she jumped from her perch to the shadows of the old oak. It was her ability to blend and disappear within them. Only when she had stood there for a moment surveying her territory did the true nature of the clatter come into view. A soldier battered from battle came up the church walk falling into the priest’s arms. He called for sanctuary and warned of war coming.

People, the whole parish and more; heathens, were running from the village to the church proper. There was blood and smoke coming from behind. The scene stirred something within Sacred Eyes she had never felt before. It was a burning feeling like fire but hotter and strong as steel. For the first moment in her long life it was the fury of God she felt. Unknown to even herself she was not only a watcher but a protector. The people passed and from behind came the invaders.

Her people were within when she trotted into the road. She was still invisible in the tree shadows waiting. Her wings opened and she appeared to the onslaught. Thunder cracked with her roar as the invaders fumbled to stop and retreat. One did not need to kill to fight. Fear alone could defend against many things. There was among them, one, who did not heed the warning. His companions looked on as he charged sword drawn. He swung and missed before her maw clamped down on his neck. It took but a shake to remove the head from the body.

The blood burned acrid in her mouth. Killing was against God’s will. She knew that but it was duty before sin. Duty before safety. She had been put here to defend and that was as she did. The band stood at the edge of the low church wall frozen in terror. Eyes wide as disks stared at the severed head. Another roar and they fled.

The danger past she once more took her place above the door. None had seen. None would know. The people edged out to see the enemy gone. Some gazed in wonder. Others praised God for protection calling it a miracle. Only one small boy looked up to the blood smeared statue. He saw it smile, a claw raised to its feline lips as if to keep secrecy. The boy grinned in return knowing more than God had watched over them this day.

138. Although all that's left is the proof
That love's not only blind but deaf
-Fake Tales Of San Francisco, Arctic Monkeys

Peninnah was taking care of the plants Corwin had brought when she felt someone enter the church. Turning she saw a young man there with a great big smile and hair in the most beautiful shade of red she could ever remember seeing.

“Can I help you?” She asked softly as she approached. The man shook his head “no”. Peninnah didn’t know what to make of it.

“I can leave you in private if you wish.”

Again he shook his head. Peninnah was confused by his behavior. Slowly the man pulled out a notepad and started to write. He handed it to her and sadness spread into her expression.

“I’m sorry. I can not read.” She was embarrassed and looked away. Undaunted he put a gentle hand on her arm to get her attention. Looking up she saw him cover his mouth and ears with his hands. It took her a moment but she figured it out.

“You’re deaf?”

He nodded his affirmation and she motioned toward one of the pews knowing it would take some time for her to understand. Smiling he took a seat beside her. He then held up a finger to her which she was learning was his way of getting her attention. He made the sign of the cross and folded his hands.

“You wish to pray?”

He nodded and then put his hand on her shoulder and then on his own.

“With you?”

His smile grew and she nodded.

“What are we praying for?”

He sighed heavily as if lost in thought. Patiently she waited taking note of his nice suit and proper dress. It was his hair though that she could not believe. So beautiful, like a dark ruby or a deep rust. Her thoughts were broken by a tap on the arm before he took her hand. She stood and followed him to the painting of Mary that adorned the hall. He pointed at it.

“Mary. Are we praying to her?”

He shrugged and then motioned like he was rocking a baby.

“Mother?”

He nodded and then coughed heavily and pretended to sneeze.

“Your mother is sick?”

He responded with a soft smile.

“I am sorry. What has befallen her?”

His hand came up over his heart and he squeezed his hand into a ball.

“Her heart is sick?”

He looked down sadly and it was Peninnah’s turn to touch his forearm in comfort. She gave his arm a slight tug. When he looked up she motioned toward the front of the church. Smiling he came along with her but stopped her short of the front.

Gently he touched her and then motioned to his moving lips followed by pointing at her. Peninnah cocked her head wondering what he was trying to express. Very hesitantly he touched her lips and moved his when he did so. She blushed red as he touched her. Few had ever been so bold to touch her face. He pulled his hand back shyly and after an awkward moment Peninnah smiled.

“Do you want me to speak the prayer?”

He affirmed her question.

“But how will I know what to say for you?”

He shook his head “no” and touched her over her heart and then touched his own. She knew he was trusting her with something very important.

“We’ll pray together.” She led him to sit before the place where they would have knelt. She encouraged him to sit in front of her but when he bowed his head she pulled it back up.

“Watch me speak so you can share my prayer for her.”

He smiled wide and nodded before returning to his solemn expression. Peninnah took a moment before she began to speak.

“In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.
Dear Father. I have come to you today with my friend to ask you to watch over his mother’s health
Her heart is ill and we ask that you find it in your will to bring her health once more.
I ask you also to look after her son who has come into your house to seek your comfort.
Ease his hearts and worries and should you see that it is her time to pass from us and into your embrace please see that he also feels your comfort in his time of need.
Also tend to the sorrow and worry that come to their family.
May they find your guidance through this time of hardship.
We ask that you hear us in the days to come when we are not within your house but say silent prayers when we are in need of the most strength.
We pray this to you. Amen.”

She bowed her head to give him a moment to say anything additional in private. Instead of silence she found herself wrapped in an embrace. Slowly he put her arms around him as well. He was crying and she could feel the sobs but she said nothing. Grief had to be expressed and without words there were few options. Eventually he looked up at her and pulled away. All the thanks that could be said with words were plain in his eyes.

When they stood he once more embraced her and she smiled again.

“Go to your family. They will need you and God will look after you all.”

She watched him go and said another silent prayer for his mother. Though deep inside she already knew he had but a few days left with the woman he loved so. Often that was the hardest to endure. She knew what God intended and it was at these moments she wished she didn’t know and could remain oblivious and hopeful as others did.