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 Posted: Wed Jun 01, 2011 6:16 pm
 A young and colorful buck ground to a halt next to a mangrove tree. He inspected the roots absently. After a time, he dragged his tired body up onto the roots. The cat who had been following him unhappily through the water leaped up beside him, shaking out her fur all over the young buck and his father.The father was also quite weary with the day's hard travel, but kept his composure for the sake of appearances. He climbed up after his son, with his pet mongoose clinging to his neck. His son's songbird fluttered to rest in the boughs above.
The two bucks conferred briefly; it was agreed that they would go without dinner that night in favor of resting their tired bodies.
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Posted: Wed Jun 01, 2011 7:04 pm
 Unfortunately for them, their quiet rest wasn't going to last long. There was a distant murmuring that might have been water, except it kept getting louder and clearer with every passing moment. Finally, words were distinguishable. And what words. "--and I think I've never seen the sun shine so bright or the birds sing so beautifully and wow that bird looks just like this one buck I saw in the lake but he was kind of an unlucky fellow so maybe I shouldn't say -- that?" The source of the babbling finally bounced into view -- and paused on a root to consider the bucks, blinking. "Hi there I don't really recognize you two are you from around here or maybe from the north I hear there's some strange things going on up there?"
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Posted: Sun Jun 19, 2011 8:27 pm
The two bucks swapped slow, weary glances as the dark doe spoke. Following a go ahead sort of gesture form his father, the son took a deep breath and rattled back an answer;
"We're form a bit of everywhere, really, seeing as we're traveling storytellers, and yes we've been to the north of late and the events there are strange indeed, have you heard the story of the other eggs perchance?"
The father laid his head down and watched on, quietly proud. His son was better at ad-libbing and PR - he would handle this bother nicely, and soon enough they would be asleep.
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Posted: Thu Jul 21, 2011 12:29 am
Blue Streak bounced happily on her heels. "I've heard it a couple times but I think all the storytellers have their own versions and it's so interesting to hear all the different versions of a tale that I think I'd like to hear yours, too."
With another bounce, she settled down, at least content to be quiet and listen to the story. Had she insisted on talking the whole time, it might've been an awkward session.
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Posted: Fri Aug 26, 2011 12:27 am
The younger of the two balked. "Oh, I'm afraid we've not the time to tell it, and you know it already -"
"Nonsense," the elder said, although his weariness was apparent in his voice and body. "We're storytellers, Motes. We'll tell the story."
- And the son closed his eyes and sighed, "Alright, father. But it'll be the abridged version. You need your rest." And I need mine as well, he thought. He stood and stretched his back with a couple sharp pops, bowed, and began with an introduction;
"We, Motes-In-Moonlight and Wildflower Breeze, do humbly present to our audience The Story of the Other Eggs.
It is said that, at the beginning of everything, long and long ago, that Matope, after galloping across the sky to create the world, and made the Swamp, and made all the animals, She chose to take the form of a crane and laid in a nest five eggs. All five hatched into kimeti, but only one of us bears the name, and we are the ones that stayed. For what reason this is, we do not know; some say the eggs were taken, some say the other children, our siblings, left of their own will. The other four are the Kiokote, the swift runners and the fierce hunters; the Acha, the beautiful dancers and sweet singers; the Totoma, the brave warriors and proud fighters; and..."
The son faltered. Few tales were left of the fifth children, and therefore little was known. He was not familiar with their names.
"And the Zikwa," Breeze volunteered, "the kind lovers and the dark dwellers." As his son sat again, he continued, "Unexpectedly, this tale is at least part true. The Kiokote, who have been living in the great grassy plains to the north of the swamp, have felt a calling back to their home of old, and are returning. My son's cat," he added, gesturing, "is a creature they bring with them from the plains; it is called a cheetah, and it runs as fast as the Kiokote, as fast as the wind."
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Posted: Mon Nov 14, 2011 3:52 pm
The agreement made Blue Streak wiggle in excitement -- she was, at least, an enthusiastic listener. She listened with her ears forward and her eyes bright, and when Wildflower Breeze finished, she bounded to her feet. "I've seen the kiokote and they do run so very fast and legends have a pearl of truth at their core so perhaps the others will return someday soon though I do wonder why they felt the call and what it means."
She paused, cocked her head at the cat, and bounced on her hooves again. "I've never seen one before but it certainly looks like it's got the wind in its bones and the sky at it's back! Thank you for the story and I think I'll go looking for that kiokote I saw a couple weeks ago because they never told me about those cats and I'd be interested to see more." She took a breath and beamed at them.
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