'she was a savage, a fucking brute, unafraid to fight for what she wanted, brave enough to go to war for what she deserved'
-R.H. SIN
'she wore a troubled past like wings--she had been through hell, and though now could see her demons, they could se...
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04.05 I hear you knocking
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994 A.D.
"PHASMATOS TRIBUM VERAS REGENERA."
A bush of flower buds bloom to life from a mere stem, opening the large, pendulous petals, causing the boy to smile. He'd been practicing this neat trick he'd learn to do, along with finding the writings inside the books belonging to his mother. The youngest Mikaelson brother had always been wily and quite sneaky, hardly getting into trouble with stealth when he snooped.
His mother noticed her books missing, of course, unlike his father, yet never commented on his learning of their heritage unlike her other children. He was always starved of knowledges, he had an insatiable curiosity about everything, and she'd hear him expressing them to Rebekah who barely understood his words, yet dutifully listened like a good sister, unlike his other older siblings who barely paid any mind to him; it was why Rebekah would always be his favorite, no matter what.
Twelve year old Kol caresses the petals of the flower, leaning down to inhale the lovely scent. The flowers were the most beautiful thing he'd seen in his life yet, which is why he couldn't help the absent–minded comment to fall from his lips: "Beautiful."
The Angel's Trumpet flowers are dangerous, they're very poisonous yet they could be fashioned into medicine with a delicate touch like his mother's, which is why he offered to go search for them. His father surely would've taught him a harsh lesson if he were to find out his son had a favorite flower, yet, Kol did.
The dangerous yet soothing aspects intrigued him, things like that always had and he never knew why. His siblings were all so outgoing and open to people whereas he preferred to spend his time reading in the woods, listening to the natural calamity of the birds and other creatures. Not long ago, his father applauded him for killing a buck but continued to focus on Niklaus's faults and Elijah's overachievements soon enough, and his mother spent most of her time fussing over Rebekah, her only daughter, and favorite son, Finn, so the woods were the only place he fit in.
He was decent with a bow and arrow, yet he preferred to gather things like herbs or berries because of the solitude that came with his meaningless rambles about any and everything. The trees and the birds occupying them would never tattle, or pick fun with him, or overlook him. Nature accepted him, listened to him, and never once would judge him, and he returned the respect to nature's beauty when in the woods. If anything, the woods were more home than his own family was. He was just...not like them, and he didn't have many friends because of his self isolating behaviors and attitude toward most authority figures. The young boy couldn't figure out why no one wanted to be around him, family or neighbor, boy or girl, it sometimes saddened him but he chose not to dwell on it as he grew older.
