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 Posted: Wed Jun 29, 2016 6:48 pm
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Posted: Fri Jul 15, 2016 1:38 am
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Crucia wiggled, attempting to nestle herself out of the cocoon of blankets and her delicate sides brushing against the wicker walls of the only home she knew. This place was dark and warm, and she wanted so much to just continue sleeping but she was so hungry. She could not decide whether she wanted to keep sleeping or to find food. She was so so tired but the gnawing pain of hunger in her belly grew more and more insistent as time passed. As the hunger grew, she spent more and more time awake, and her awareness grew more and more with each day, her senses stretching to the edges of her basket and slowly beyond even those confines. She could feel the odd chill that came from the edges of her world, and the sounds grew louder and clearer each time she awoke.
"Hush, now," she heard a voice say. It was warm and deep and, most importantly, familiar. It was the only voice she had ever known in her short life, and she knew that the speaker was close, their voice loud and coming clear into her dark, warm world. She felt her world move, tilting a bit to the side as those it had been nudged by the speaker. "Hush, sweetie. Now is not the time to come out." The speaker shushed again, the noise oddly soothing, and she felt her world shake again, the chill from the outside seeping a littler deeper between the cracks of her world. "Please, my dear," the speaker said, and its voice was odd, desperate. Normally the speaker's voice was full of affection and amusement. It told her stories of the outside world, of colors and sounds and music, and it made her want to come out even sooner but she was always so tired. She was never awake for long, but this time she was just so hungry... She shook again, steadily, back and forth.
"Please, please, my love," the voice said, and the words were hurried and rushed, a tremor in each word with an emotion that Crucia could not yet identify. "Please, stay in there where it is warm and safe. There is a storm out, you see, my darling, my love. It is so cold and--" The voice broke off, coming out in a choke, and it was such a strange, new sound. Crucia did not like it.
She opened her mouth to give the little whinny, hoping that maybe, maybe she could make the speaker feel better. She was so awake now and she wanted out out out. The speaker hushed her again, desperate, shushing her movements and sound while interspersed with a soft, anxious humming. The humming was calming, the soft vibration of the sound washed over her and soothed her anxiousness. She was still so hungry, but the low key notes of the wordless song rushed over her, sweet and calm. She could feel herself drifting, the once agitated shaking quieting. Her eyes drifted shut slowly as the speaker--her father--slowly started to sing:
Come stop your crying, it will be all right
Just take my hand, hold it tight
I will protect you from all around you
I will be here don't you cry
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