Welcome to Gaia! ::

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF NO LOVE!
Kin Name: Don't Make a Sound
Drabble:
It's the Festival of Love. Most kin are out and about, celebrating, taking in the new growth of spring, the blossoming of flowers, and walking side-by-side with their loved ones. Yet, Hush is alone. Her children are grown, and have left the nest, though both came by in the morning to say hello. They'd brought breakfast, and that had been nice, but Hush is..... lonely. Her heart aches for a mate to call her own, yet there's a part of her that believes that will never happen. Not with how withdrawn and quiet she is. Who would want a mate that finds it difficult, most days, to even leave their den?

She sighs softly to herself, and gazes up from the cover of her burrow at the dabbled sunlight filtering through the trees, the fresh green leaves. A breeze drifts by, rich with the scent of new growth, and the flowers that always bloom near her home. It's a small comfort. Briefly, she considers getting up and going out, but like most times before, the more she thinks about it and works herself up, the more her anxiety grows as well. In the end, she tells herself, "maybe tomorrow," and turns around to take a nap.

When she wakes up, the light has changed, and she can tell it's late in the afternoon. She's slept the day away. Again. She just imagine what her children might say to her right now. I Promise would be sympathetic, and Lean on Me would tell her something encouraging to help her feel like she might be able to go out. She wishes they were here now, but they're out - gone to the festival.

Her caveworms chitter nearby, curled into colorful lumps, and the sight of them makes her smile faintly. They're carefree creatures, attending their basic needs. If she had even a bit of that freedom, she would probably be a lot happier.

Of course, her anxiety and fears are unfounded. She knows, logically, there's little to fear in the swamp as long as one is even a little bit careful. She knows better than to poke around where caimen's rest, for instance. Yet when it comes to how to interact with other kin.... the thought alone makes her feel tongue-tied and sends her heart a-flutter.

Yet.... maybe, maybe if she waits until just before night-time? Surely, then, there won't be so many wandering about, and it will be easier to go out. Besides, she hasn't eaten since breakfast, and her food-stores are running quite low. Unless she wants to go hungry, she'll need to go out regardless.

Screwing up her courage, the zikwa doe takes a few deep breaths, and stands. Sensing her movement, Prim chitters a bit excitedly, and crawls over to her. With her largest worm beside her, Hush slowly ventures toward the exit of her den. With great caution, she peeks out, into the fading light of the day, and, spotting no-one, tentatively exits the warmth and safety of her burrow. She's barely ten paces away when a shout nearly gives her a heart attack.

"Surprise!" Comes the yell, from her right, and she jumps, startled. But then she realizes who it is -- her daughter, and her son, right behind. Lean on Me is laughing, and I Promise looks a little sheepish at having scared their mother half to death.

"I told you this wasn't a great idea," he says, always so soft spoken.

"Were you trying to kill me?" Hush finally gasps.

"Of course not. But you didn't think we'd go to the festival without the kin we love most in the swamp, did you?" Lean says, and Promise nods along. Touched, Hush feels her breath falter for an entirely different reason, and suddenly her throat feels tight.

"You two...." She sniffs, before clearing her throat. With one on either side, and Prim trailing behind, Hush makes it to the festival after all, and it turns out she no longer feels quite so lonely after all.
670 words

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF ROMANTIC LOVE!
Kin Name: Escort
Drabble:
When most people hear the word romance, they think of the typical things - flowers, tasty treats, endless nights spent with that one kin that's truly special. Not Escort, though. Romance is something anyone can enjoy, and it doesn't have to last forever. Escort, at least, believes in spreading the romance as much as possible, with as many kin as he can. The real trick, is finding out what that other kin actually wants, even if they sometimes don't realize they need, or even want, something to begin with!

At least, that's what he's been telling some of the younger bucks and does that have gathered around to hear him talk about it.

He smirks playfully at his audience, winking at a particularly pretty buck in the back row.

"You see, ladies and gentlebucks, it's really not about repeating the same old gestures. Anyone can do that, after all. It doesn't mean he or she won't appreciate it, but finding something that's really special, well... that's romantic. It takes thought, insight, sometimes even a little cunning to figure out what someone will respond to. When you find that one thing, well, then... you're golden - whether that's for a night, or the rest of your lives." There are murmurs of conversation that crop up as he finishes, but Escort makes a beeline for the pretty boy he'd spotted earlier.

He definitely has plans in mind for a little romance of his own, this season.
244 words

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF PET LOVE!
Kin Name: Pet
Drabble:
Love is a word that brings to mind thoughts of warmth and goodness. It's a wholesome thing - except when it isn't.

"You love me, don't you, brother?" He asks.

The purple buck looks up at his older sibling - his stronger, more clever, more handsome, more cruel sibling - and nods. It earns him an unimpressed look, and he ducks his head, quick to correct his mistake. "Of course I do, Brother."

"Hm. Took you a minute to think about it though, didn't it?" His voice is sweet, but his eyes promise punishment. The younger buck wilts a little under that stare.

"I just -- I was just surprised you had to ask, that's all. You know I love you, right?" The worst part, perhaps, is that it's true, and he really does live up to his name, doesn't he? Pet. Little more than a toy to be played with and broken. Yet, he couldn't imagine a life without his brother in it. He's the stronger one, after all. The smart one. Pet would be so, so lost without him. He yearns for his approval. A Brother's Love. They were meant to be together from the moment they began to form and dream in their eggsacs.

"Just checking," but Brother's voice is warmer now, indulgent, and he nuzzles his younger sibling gently. "Let's find someone fun to play with, tonight."

Pet breathes out in relief. The words mean reprieve for him. Brother will be distracted, and perhaps Pet will be able to enjoy the festival a little after all.
258 words

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF FAMILIAL LOVE!
Kin Name: Swarm
Drabble:

Swarm was a good mother.

Though perhaps she didn’t meet all the requirements for a Kimeti; she far exceeded what a wasp could expect to receive from a parent. Brother and Sister had always been attentive to her when she was young but only when it came to the basics of food and protection. This she also excelled at. She had learnt well.

She hunted tirelessly to feed the five hungry mouths. She was an unstoppable force when they were threatened, or even when they weren’t. Predators knew to avoid even wandering too close to the area she had claimed as her own while her young grew from weak little foals into adventurous colts and fillies.

Love was the hardest part.

Swarm would witness Dapper Mantis, so full of that love and adoration, so many words that spilled out his feelings and his thoughts. Their children responded in different ways. Headhuntress seemed not to care for it much; she was quiet and watchful, a killer in the making. Meanwhile Aphid thrived on the attention.

She’d always found it hard to express herself. Those emotions were there, they lingered deep down and while she had once puzzled and fretted over them, now she understood they were part of her as a Kimeti. That didn’t make it any easier to give them voice or want the closeness that others found so easy.

Swarm could never say the words ‘I love you’. Not even to Dapper Mantis. Even when he had found her after so long; even though his presence meant she was no longer alone. He was a missing piece of the puzzle that was herself and she needed him to be everything she was not.

So she showed love in other ways - a rare smile, a gift of food or trinket, an approving word.

Then time passed as it does, the children grew into adulthood and wandered further and further away. Her family, her hive, was breaking piece by piece. But some stayed, Aphid was always there. Bright and helpful, always seeking approval, always doing her best. Wasp and mantis but mostly Kimeti. Swarm couldn’t help but adore her.

Sometimes they all returned together and still Swarm couldn’t say what she wanted to say.

‘I’m glad you’re here. You’re my family. I love you.’

Brother and Sister could hum out their pleasure, a gentle buzz that would fill the space. Their happiness at the reunion clear. Swarm could not. So Dapper Mantis said the words for her and she was grateful, for him, for her children, for what she had found after so long.

“Welcome back,” she would say instead, once he was done - and they all knew. They could all feel the same connection, the same warmth. It was the feeling of belonging, of a love that was more than any other. It was a bond beyond words and that was enough. She didn’t need to be everything a Kimeti was or to express those important feelings.

They were there in her heart.

She loved her family.

[507]

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF FADED LOVE!
Kin Name: Mountain Song
Drabble: With children came great joy. But also...big arguments. They had to decide the best way to raise their unique children. Totoma with zikwa blindness, zikwa with characteristic totoma scales. Mountain Song and Streak often thought their own methods were the best. While deeply in love, pressure mounted. The zikwa way of live, the zikwa mentality, was just so different from that of the totoma.

As their children slept, comfortable and snuggled, Mountain Song would raise his voice during yet another fight.

"So you're saying our totoma children are lesser by design?" at Streak's commentary about the zikwa belief of reincarnation. He then left without waiting for a response.

Of course he came back. He always did. But first he had to watch their children for a bit. They did nothing wrong, existing as they did, but it raised so many issues he wasn't prepared for.

When he chose to train his zikwa children like his totoma children, Streak gave him a hard time. He felt trapped. Nothing felt like the right move. He had a foal upset over not having a name as was the totoma way, a blind totoma son he wasn't prepared for, and a mate who refused to budge on being selectively protective.

The children eventually grew up and went their own ways.

Mountain Song felt as if a burden finally fell from his shoulders. And he was...tired. Tired of the stress and strife. Tired of not feeling as strong as he thought he was.

He looked at his mate, and sighed, feeling ever the more exhaustion pouring from his flanks like felled snow. "We need to talk." [ 271 ]

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF REKINDLED LOVE!
Kin Name: Streak
Drabble: Long ago, she rejected the zikwa way of life. Too many bodies crowded underground, following the same roles for on and on. The first time she saw sunlight, the stars, felt rain... Streak couldn't go back. All the other kin she met were so different, so amazing in how much they weren't zikwa. And Mountain Song... He was something else. She fell so hard for him, between the banter and his echoing song. His stories of such a different life.

When she felt their children in her belly, she only responded with joy. Zikwa laid eggs with other zikwa; this would be so different!

Never did she imagine all the strife to follow. Finally, great conflict, both with her mate and among the foals.

She thought it would pass. But after the children left... Mountain Song still looked as haggard as he did after every spat.

Streak couldn't run from this mess. And it was a mess, she realized in that moment.

He wanted to talk. It dawned on her as he did that her ideal about differences only went so far. She was still zikwa, she was still stuck in her own ways. They both were what they were. But she didn't want to let go of what they had.

"I don't want to lose you," she said, finally, and nuzzled him.

"Next time we will do better. I promise."

They would sit and watch the night pass, together until he finally started humming again. And Streak could begin to hope. [ 252 ]

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF INFATUATED LOVE!
Kin Name: Howling Curses
Drabble: He didn't know...what to think of this. This weird, constant pain inside of him. He couldn't walk it off, or sleep it away. Even tearing out his frustration on a kill did him no good. Howl was at a loss. Ever since he met her... No, after she left, he hurt. Had she done something to him while they slept? Did she poison him? Leave some disease in his den?

Clearly he should have known better. The surly brown buck stomped his hooves around a bit before butting his head into a nearby tree. Now he felt another pain right where he made contact. A much more familiar pain, the one now in his head; one he knew that would pass. The other lurking pain, nested deep in his chest, refused to die. And it got worse for a while whenever he thought about her again.

Often he blamed her for how he felt, and that made it worse. Sometimes he remembered the one night she stayed with him, and how they curled up side by side, and that made it worse.

Snarling and still smarting, he looked over at some flowers. They, too, brought a flash of her back. Was nothing sacred?! He fell to the ground and rolled about, as if it would cleanse him like the birds in the dust. He growled and he grunted, but when he got back up he only felt exhausted and still...hurting. He looked at the flowers again.

Her name had flowers in it. And like flowers, she was not meant for the company of his sort. He should stomp the invaders and go back to his den. If he stopped thinking about her, it wouldn't matter anymore.

Still, he couldn't look away. All he could do was stare...and wonder what might happen if he brought her those flowers, the ones like her name. [ 323 ]

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF BLOOMING LOVE!
Kin Name: Ascent
Drabble: The acha doe couldn't help but giggle. She was doing that a lot lately. Ascent just felt so good! After meeting that nice buck...it seemed fate kept bringing them back together. He was so cute, so kind. A little awkward... He wasn't like anyone she had ever met before. Ascent enjoyed Azalea's company, and on top of it...she was starting to flirt? She had never done that before. The thought made her giggle more, but hide her face to boot, even though she was alone. She wanted to...she wanted to tell someone. That she really liked this buck.

But who? Ascent spent so much time with her brother...but she wasn't sure. They never talked about stuff like that, and Out of Reach was so stoic. It just didn't seem like it would go over the way she'd like. Her father wasn't really the gushy sort, either. And she rarely got to see her other brothers...

She needed friends, just to talk about these things, apparently.

Ascent sighed. She looked around at the flowers, and up at the trees where the birds sang.

"Will you be my friends today?" she asked of them. "I have things to chirp about, too."

The surrounding trees didn't shift, not in sound or sight.

"I met a pink kiokote... He's like a nice breeze after a long run. His company is not too much or too little. And like a flower, he's so nice to look at. I always hope to run into him again! It feels like so long between the times we see each other... It's so strange, friend birds! This doesn't happen in my family..."

She paced around in long, lazy circles, in an almost prance-sort of gait. Her gaze stayed up towards the hidden tree brances.

"Is this what love is?" The thought alone made her heart flutter. "I do like him so much... What do you do with love? Can I ask to stay by his side? Could we travel together...see what flowers there are in the swamp, and beyond? That would be so nice!"

But...she wondered.

"What if he grew bored? Or if I did? No one stays together forever, do they? I'm not used to being around someone so, so much... But I'd like it. I know what being alone is, but what if I forget? What if I forget, and then we part?"

The thought made her ears droop. "Would that be worth it?"

There only seemed to be two choices. Either take that risk, and try to spend so much more time with him...or play it safe.

"Safe isn't fun, is it?" she concluded. "I want to have fun! I want to keep feeling...like this! For as long as I can! I want love!"

There. She said it out loud. Her legs shook at the thrill. Love... Love... She was in love...

"Friend birds! I hope we get to talk again someday! If I'm lucky, I'll tell you all about love! I do wish I had your wings... I would like to find Azalea again. I don't know how I'll manage until I see him again."

Truly, the curse of young love. [ 526 ]

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF PET LOVE!
Kin Name: Every Rose Has Thorns
Drabble: Rose looked down at the technicolor amphibian sitting in front of her. It croaked, and did nothing else. Tch. How annoying. The kimeti looked back at her moths, following ever-reliably. And out of the way. She enjoyed pets, not pests.

This frog, however. Now that was a pest. She poked at it with a hoof, making a face at the texture. Finally, it hopped.

Once.

She sighed and stepped over it. After a few steps, it started to hop after her. Rose was not sure how she managed to catch this frog's attention, but it refused to leave her be. It didn't matter how much distance came between them; it showed up again anyway.

Every Rose Has Thorns cared for beauty, grace. Not whatever this farce was. But she couldn't get away from it.

True, she could stomp it until it got the message, but that was uncouth. A caiman would probably go after it or something. She didn't have to dirty her hooves any.

Still, the croaking occasionally sounded...nice. Almost melodic. Sometimes she could find rhythm in it. Then get annoyed when it wouldn't stop as she tried to sleep.

And there was something to admire in its tenacity.

She had to admit, she was losing her resolve. Such a stupid frog was a danger to itself. It kept up with her this long, perhaps she truly should protect it for its own good.

"You're Rude," she stated, a short name with no poetry. Much different from her moths. "But you will do." [ 255 ]

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF SELF LOVE!
Kin Name: Follow
Drabble:
He struggled for so long, trying to find independence. That, and self-worth. There were blind acha in the world, but Follow didn't know them. He didn't even know his blind zikwa father. A norm for some became a grapple for the uninitiated.

Follow didn't think much about love. He cared for his family, of course. But he didn't think much about kin outside of his little clutch. So the idea of falling for someone... Unfathomable. He didn't care about being blind when it came to the realms of love. Being awkward and ungainly though...that was a bit more important.

He had to be able to outrun swamp predators before thinking about wooing anybody. If he ever thought about that at all.

No; while others searched for love, he held onto his one achievement. For so long, he was stuck in the meaning of his name. A forced follower.

Finally, he had others follow him. And it felt so good. For a moment...he felt true worth. While he couldn't see, he wanted to be seen, whatever that meant. He wanted to be regarded, and not pitied.

The moment he stopped pitying himself...it became easier. He wasn't a charity case. No. He might not be equipped properly, either as a seeing acha or a blind zikwa, but he wouldn't let it hold him back.

He had started to find his footing. He could stand tall and move with reassurance. And that, that's what he loved. [ 243 ]

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF PLATONIC LOVE!
Kin Name: Tidal Terror
Drabble: Tidal Terror laughed as more kin ran off at the sight of her. She was big, brawny, and had a tendency to jump out of the water while other kin were too busy being bullies. Big mistake to do that. Someone had to protect others and their honor! And she liked taking that role.

And when she could...she wanted to befriend the kin she helped. She understood the concept of allies. Of course she did, she was a totoma! Allies made or broke wins in fights. But she liked making connections. Everyone picked on had their own stories to tell; there was always a reason others were mistreated. And that would fester like a wound. How could you be a good troop if you held yourself back, being forced to think about what made you different all the times. Friendship was the best way to combat that.

Loud and laughing, she was always ready to make friends with the kin she just saved. And if they were afraid of her...that was okay. She knew how she looked. That just made real friends more special. Tidal Terror knew loneliness, but she also understood when it was the better option.

Friendship and friendliness could be hard to come by, but it was the best social connection one could have. [ 217 ]

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF NO LOVE!
Kin Name: Bloodstained
Drabble: Bloodstained hated this time of year. Kin all around were content themselves together, forcing themselves to think there was a connection. So many paired up, got their hearts broken, then went to find love again anyway. Even among the totoma, who should know better.

She knew she did. She got her name because she used others' deaths for her survival. Her pelt remained forever stained from it. Life was a great big fight, and so much in the totoma realm allowed few distractions from that fight. Most of the totoma wars were not supposed to be lethal...but sometimes they were. The mountains aided the fact. Falling in love, too, created vulnerability. And no one seemed to notice.

Disgusting, really. Bloodstained was ready for the fight that came with every sunrise. She did not care for life's other little distractions surrounding her. Not the sound of the birds in the trees, not the kin trying to talk to her, not the silly animals looking for an alliance. She did not die before, when she was so young and so naive. She would not die now, either. It could always come at any moment, especially in this strange swamp she now lived in. Leave the stupid deaths for the others who refused to get with the program. [ 215 ]

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF PASSIONATE LOVE!
Kin Name: Reaper
Drabble: Was it weird that Reaper watched Chosen One sleep?

If it was, she didn’t care. It was her duty- no, her privilege- no, her passion- to make sure that he was safe. She would gladly sacrifice herself at the altar of his person, splash her blood in a crimson spray to ensure his happiness. Devotion wasn’t a word strong enough for the way she felt. She silently watched his sides heave evenly, in and out, in and out. Was he dreaming? Was he treading the murky beyond that came with sleep? Could he feel himself wrapped in the cocoon of her love, and the love of all those who followed him? She snorted derisively, thinking of his harem. Oh, certainly he was fond of them, and they of him, but none of them could touch her absolute loyalty. She loved him far more than they ever could, and she knew that they knew it. Physicality wasn’t necessary; really, it was a tawdry accessory to the depth of her feeling.

She lay down, inches from his face, to feel his breath on her muzzle. She wasn’t in love with him. That would be selfish; the Swamp needed him, and besides, being in love… just wasn’t how she felt. Being in love meant feelings of airy lightness, of silly heart-throbbing, of simple emotion. Her love was a sacred thing, far more important than any romance could ever be. Rising again to her feet, she stood watch against the dawn, waiting for her family to rise like the sun. [236]


A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF INFATUATED LOVE!
Kin Name: Royal Jelly
Drabble:Royal Jelly loathed Queen with a passion. Everything about her was just the absolute worst. The way she primped and preened, no tuft of fur out of place. Who had the time and energy to spend on that sort of primping, especially when you looked like that to begin with? It was like putting fish scales on a boar. And her mane- so much vanity on that doe! The nerve of her, to lounge so luxuriously while fixing it, to waste so much effort untangling it and making it all sleek and shiny. And that was just her appearance! Her personality was far, far worse; she was haughty, full of herself, and simply could not admit her inferiority. If she would only do so! Royal Jelly could find herself quite gracious were her rival to just submit; she would take that scrawny kimeti under her wing, so to speak, and show her how to really live. She would show Queen the land of milk and honey that the swamp really could be, show her what it really meant to be a queen bee, so to speak. She would take the waspish waif under her proverbial wing, fix her up, and make something presentable out of her. She would show that pompous wastrel how to really be a queen, how to carry yourself with true poise, how to really be a beauty. She fancied the idea of sharing honeycomb with her lovely underling (lovely, of course, because she was willing to admit that Queen had potential, darling, yes potential.

But only if she would admit to Royal’s superiority! Without that, her rival was just a mewling fool, no matter how bright her eyes were! [283]


A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF BLOOMING LOVE!
Kin Name: Smash-and-Mash
Drabble: Smash-and-Mash was a simple Totoma, but that didn’t mean she was dumb and it didn’t mean she didn’t have deep feelings. She was honest and open with her emotions and desires; duplicity wasn’t in her nature. She didn’t have time for it! There was far too much to do otherwise. She had her work, her tribe, her friends- and she loved them all deeply. But there was nothing she loved so much as smashing and mashing and mixing up food. As she smashed up a whole mess of pears for the fermentation shells, she found herself daydreaming about how and when she found her passion for destruction, then reconstruction, of foodstuffs. She hadn’t always been a member of Rise and Shine; she’d been a traveling Totoma for much of her youth, roaming around with others- until the day everything changed, and they found a boar skeleton. It had been picked clean of meat, but the bones were mostly left alone, and she decided to open them up.

At first, she didn’t think anything of it. The bones had marrow in them; to get it out, they needed smashed. The cherries had stones in them; to make eating them easier, they also needed smashed. Why not save time and smash these things together?

The first bite of the bone marrow withthe cherries, however… it was like a veil had been pulled from her eyes, like she could suddenly see for the very first time. The world seemed brighter; the air was clearer, the birdsong was more beautiful, and everything was crisp and clean and fresh.

When she added the crabapples to the mix, however, was when things really took off. Traveling didn’t seem desirable any more, unless it was in the service of creating new food combinations. She wasn’t interested in fighting or hunting as a primary pursuit. This was what she was meant to do. When she thought about that first experiment, she could almost feel her heart expanding, the love for food blossoming forth. Even today, years later, she could still recall the moment she learned what love was. [350]

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF SELF LOVE!
Kin Name: Half Truth
Drabble: Sometimes, when she couldn’t sleep at night, Half Truth imagined Walking Root.

She’d never met the doe, and likely never would, but her life had been changed irrevocably by her absence- and whether she (she being Half Truth and Waking Root in equal likelihood) knew it or not, her actions were predicated on that tenuous notion of a void left in the heart of another.

What had she been like? She must have been wonderful, in some way, for Rose’s love made one wonderful. Had she known Dawn and the kids? Had that been a wedge between them? She knew that their family unit was unusual, but weren’t all family units strange in a way? Did she find it hard to imagine Rose in the embrace of another? Half Truth didn’t mind, because she knew that Dawn’s First Light offered something she never could, and anyways, at this point she’d come to realize that love wasn’t something offered in a finite quantity. It wasn’t used up; you could love lots of kin without ever running out. But maybe Walking Root couldn’t do that. It was a hard lesson to learn, and in a lot of ways, Half Truth understood. It had taken her quite some time to understand what love really meant, and even more time to learn how to express it in a healthy way. She wondered what her predecessor was doing now. Had she found another? Had she learned the lesson Half Truth had been blessed with? Did she ever think of Rose, what she’d done to her, how she’d broken her heart? Did she ever want to fix it? If so, she’d missed her chance. Really, there hadn’t been a chance. Hearts, Half Truth had learned, could never be fixed. Not really. You couldn’t take yourself and just plug up the hole that somebody had left behind. You had to build over it and around it, and you created something new- but to deny that the hurt had ever happened wasn’t healthy. Or perhaps, even possible.


And when she thought of that, when she thought of herself not as filling a void, but as having carved out a niche for herself and a family of her own, Half Truth came to realize something.

She didn’t just love others. She loved herself, too. By learning how to love, she’d built herself up, too. She wasn’t a love ‘em and leave ‘em liar anymore; she didn’t feel that guilty ache anymore, although she did remember its bitterness. She could look herself in the eye and see a doe to be proud of, a doe whose relationships with others were healthy and not based on mutual overuse. Her love was a scaffold, like a dam on a stream; she wasn’t emptying herself into her lover or her kid, but was creating bonds that supported her and left her feeling… feeling whole. Like she was more than just her strength, her charm, her looks. Like there was something inside of her that was worth it, and it wasn’t just something that Rose could see, or outsides could see, but something warm within her; something good about her. In learning how to love others, she’d learned to love herself- and as she snuggled against her lover, the thought of the doe who’d come before faded from her thoughts, just as she always did. And just as always, she was replaced by the warmth of knowing that she, Half Truth, was worth loving. [580]

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF PLATONIC LOVE!
Kin Name: Sticky Situation & Good Boy
Drabble: Good Boy bounded up and down the path, twirling and jumping and laughing. The sun was shining down and a gentle breeze blew through the trees. He ran back to Sticky, tail wagging excitedly. "Where will we go next, Sticky? Where? Where?" Sticky didn't have a chance to reply before the other was off again, this time distracted by a butterfly. He let out a sigh and shook his head - how in the world did he get himself into this.. situation. It wasn't how he had seen his life panning out a year ago. He had not expected the kiokote to follow him home from the events of that day, "claiming" him as it were. He had not expected his heart to eventually swell and warm to the other. It was not a romantic love he felt. It wasn't a love that was specific to the two of them - it could be shared by many. It was platonic in nature but none of these factors made it any less special. It was theirs. A year ago, the thought would have made him guffaw. Him? A best friend? And with Good Boy, no less? He almost laughed in that moment but Good Boy's laughter chimed in first, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Stick," he called, pausing for the briefest of moments to ensure the other was following. "There's one for you to chase now, look!"

Sticky didn't hesitate and took off, joining his best friend in chasing and laughing.

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF BLOOMING LOVE!
Kin Name: Rosegrave
Drabble:
She tills the earth with stone and hooves, digging deep furrows to soften the hard packed earth. It smells loamy, and soft - sweet, and good, comfortable like home. Fat worms wriggle to get out of her way now and then, but she leaves them be - they're good for the soil, after all. Their tiny pathways will keep the earth soft, their excrement will fertilize the earth.

The seeds, carefully plucked and dried, kept in the cool and dark until the perfect moment, are lovingly handled with care. She's careful not to spill them as she drops each one into its own new home, and tucks them into the earth. They're sleeping now, but with a little water and sun, they'll soon wake. She does this dozens of more times, until there are no more seeds to plant. Each mound is a promise of something wonderful to come.

Water is a little more tricky. She could wait for the rains, but she wants the best for her garden, so she fashions something to carry it with a large leaf and some vine. It leaks a little, but it's better than nothing at all, and makes her job all the more easier for it. The spring is not far, and the water is cool and sweet. She takes a few moment to drink from it, resting from her morning labors, and then fills the water-bag to the brim. It's only half full by the time she gets back -but is still several mouthfuls more than she could have brought without it.

Water runs in rivulets, and wets the earth, darkening it. She smiles, and does this several more times.

Days pass, and tiny green sprouts begin to push their way up from the earth and into the sun. They are fragile, and precious. Any little thing could upset the balance of their tender new lives. She helps them the very best that she can - plucking weeds and hungry insects away. They don't all make it, but many of them do, and they grow taller every day.

Weeks pass, and they've begun to develop thorns, and wonderfully green leaves. She doesn't have to tend to them so dutifully anymore, but she does anyway. It's soothing, and she wants the best for them.

Eventually, they grow so thick that she can't make her way through the rows as easily anymore. They thrive from her care, and before long, her hard work is rewarded in kind.

The first blooms are luscious and sweet and heavy - almost too big for the young plants. She plucks them here and there, lightening the burden, and more soon grow back in their place.

Small animals nest among the branches and the thorns, and curl up in the velvety softness of the thick petals to sleep. It is a quiet, safe, sanctuary - and she welcomes them, so long as they don't upset her garden. Most are happy for a safe place to live, and she is happy to have them.

Beneath the roots, the dead slumber on for eternity, the remnants of their lives giving nourishment to something new and beautiful, and she tends the precious blooms with love. (529)

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF LOST LOVE!
Kin Name: Seeks the Forgotten
Drabble:
Sometimes, Seeks discovers that there are things in life that simply can't be recovered; that are gone forever, or were never there to begin with at all, and thus cannot be found, because they were never lost (even if one wishes they had been). It's true, but that doesn't make it easy. Though few things in life ever really are.

Harder still, however, is realizing he's spent so much time looking for lost things for others, that he, himself, somewhere along the way, has become a bit lost himself. Or, perhaps, always has been. The yawning ache within his chest had been smothered, at times, by the joy of others, and had been tolerable to bear. Now, however....

Well, it's only possible to ignore for so long that he is devastatingly lonely. After all, who could develop a true friendship with a kin who spends all their time wandering, never settled, always looking beyond, and never what is right in front of him? Seeks wonders if he's always been such a fool.

The others look happy, with their mates, their friends, their family. He wants that for himself. But there's something wrong with him, something missing, and he doesn't know what it is. A piece that was lost when he was made, that fell about the world somehow - and all he knows is that he won't ever be happy until he finds it and that maybe, in helping others, he might, someday, get closer to discovering it.

Until then.... he just has to keep going. (256)

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF ROMANTIC LOVE!
Kin Name: Moonfrost-like-Ashes
Drabble:

Moonfrost-like-Ashes was not a sentimental doe. She had no use for sentiment – no one should – no use for such a frivolous notion as love. She dealt with facts, and figures, the phase of the moon, and the height of the tide. The turn of the season and the growth of a plant. The effect of salt on meat. Facts, and figures, and cause, and effect. These were the things that made up her heart: it was cold as moonfrost, grey as ashes, because it was filled with figures and facts, and that was all she needed – as anyone should.

When the buck – really, a boy – asked for her help, that night, as she perched upon a mangrove root, and marked the height of the tide under the moon's light, she had said yes, because it was figures, and facts. He needed her facts for his figures, and his figures would give her more facts. She could see the benefits of that.

That it had been seasons since, years since, a food empire since, a whole tribe since, five children, then suddenly three more, so eight children since – that didn't matter, didn't factor into her calculations at all. It was just facts and figures, a beneficial relationship, nothing like love at all.

>_>

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF FAMILIAL LOVE!
Kin Name: Only the Ashes Remain
Drabble:

Only the Ashes Remain was Perplexed. It was hard enough that their new siblings had come as a shock, after so many seasons of being their parents' only children. It was outright baffling that, having now grown into young bucks and doe, their new siblings were insistently, incessantly, relentlessly cheerful. It had been cute enough, he supposed, when they were little foals, tripping over each other with bright smiles and "pleath"es and "nk you!"s, but that irrepressible geniality had only intensified the older they grew. Now they trotted around the store, helpfully leading customers to the products of their choice: "try this, it is very well-recommended," they brightly pronounced, "this one, it's perfect for your needs!" Oh, sure, all of the Rise & Shine children knew how to turn on that vacuous customer service beam…but…it didn't seem like Bob, Carol, and Foster had to turn it on. It seemed like they had been…born with it. Which was preposterous! He could imagine how such abominations could have arisen from Dad…but from Mom?! Mom had never smiled a day in her life.

It was obvious: they were either changelings, or possessed. Unfortunately, he had not been able to (even with Best's best attempt) persuade Dad into an exorcism. Something about, "love your family," and, "they may be different from you but that doesn't mean it's weird," and "customers adore them, sales are up." He could take a hint.

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF PLATONIC LOVE!
Kin Name: I Do
Drabble:

In a sense, they were both royalty, in the Royal Rainbow Troupe. Her mother, Red-stained Blossom, was as much a queen as she could be in the tribe (even though, honestly, Prize ran the show), and if his mother, Bring in the Night, was not a queen, then surely she had never seen one. They were as much royalty as there could be, in a place like the Royal Rainbow Troupe. They had been born but two weeks apart – not even quite. He had been born first, and she nipped at his heels. He was the first colt she knew, that wasn't her brother. They grew up together, tumbling over each other, running head to tail around the banks of whatever pool the troupe chose to camp beside.

For the longest time, she thought perhaps she loved him. She'd never said it, because she – I Do – was too witty to fall to love. That was not her way, she did not love, not like a giddy, little girl. But he was quick, and fair, and gayer than her brothers. His lush purple locks tangled with her gold ones as they whispered and laughed, and for the longest time, she thought she was in love.

It was only when her gawky limbs unfolded into the elegant steps of a grown doe that she understood: she was as in love with him as she could ever be in love – her better half, her bestest friend, her precious Little Prince.

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF PET LOVE!
Kin Name: Shroud
Drabble:

Shroud had never laid his eyes on her, because he had very little eye to lay – like every other Zikwa, only glow made it through the skin that healed over their sockets, and she was not one of those who glowed. But he didn't need to see her to know she was there – the neat click-click of her mandibles, the whispers of her many legs across the ground; all these he could hear. The careful exploration of her feather-light feelers, the calming coolness of her chitinous plates – these were gentle against his limbs, his skin. He did not need to see her to know her, and to know how sweet she was.

He still remembered the day his father, the venerable Buried Alive, brought her to him: a cave worm, just for him, his father had brought. She was white, he had told him, with pale pink tones, at places pale blue. Pink was the colour of flowers, and blue the colour of a burbling stream. He didn't know how they looked, but he knew how they tasted, and they tasted wonderful, so he felt sure she looked wonderful too.

She was beautiful, he just knew it, his magnificent white worm, like pale flowers in places, and a pale stream others, his magnificent, beautiful Maggot!

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF PASSIONATE LOVE!
Kin Name: Dapper Mantis
Drabble:

Once upon a time, a very long time ago, when he was just a colt, Dapper Mantis had had a dream. He'd dreamt of an endless path, that stretched so far, it seemed never to cease, no matter how hard he kept running (and he'd run hard). But then, it did end – and at the end, there was a solitary filly. She was the most beautiful doe he had ever seen, dark as – as a wasp, with danger stripes of gold, but, more importantly, she was scared. She was scared, because she was alone. That day, he'd sworn to find her – he'd promised, so that she would no longer be alone. Once he awoke, he thought of nothing else. Every waking moment was consumed by thoughts of how he would do this, and every wisp of dream. And so it was, clinging to this flame, the colt grew up.

All grown up, he traveled far, all over the Swamp, with his trusty sidekick, Court, with one aim in mind, and one aim alone: to find the doe of his dreams. And, one day, he did! And she was no longer scared, and she was no longer alone, and the first thing that happened was that Brother and Sister tried to kill him and your Auntie Strike nearly snapped his fragile neck. But one thing and another, and she eventually came round, and that's how I met your mother, kids. And to this day, my love for her burns no less than it did, when I was just a little colt, who dreamt of a beautiful doe.

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF INFATUATED LOVE!
Kin Name: Candid Crush
Drabble:

Candid Crush: it was in her name. That was the way she had been born; her dream. Could anyone blame her? She had been born with it. Candid Crush: that was who she was, a Kiokote, bright and free – well, not bright in the literal sense, she was quite dark, black of pelt, with toxic stripes of orange and green racing from her face. Bright enough! She was sweet, sweet as the sweets she made for Rise & Shine. That was how she was born, because her mother was Cue Queue.

She met many bucks at Rise & Shine. That was the nature of the place. Kin came and Kin went – more often than not, Kin came back. She met many bucks, handsome ones, beautiful ones, bucks that made her laugh. Her name was Candid Crush. Was it a surprise?

Perhaps she had never known love – more than one had said that to her. Infatuation, some had said, was not love. She couldn't quite agree. Was the heat in her cheeks not love? The shiver down her spine, the rapid beating of her heart? It was ardent, and fierce, and true. Was that not love?

She was Candid Crush. That was who she was. If her love was not love, then she didn't need it.

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF LOST LOVE!
Kin Name: Shush
Drabble:

She had never felt the Ache. She didn't know what it was like. If she hadn't found him, she would never have left the Plains. She hadn't known what it meant – the Ache – the first time he had said it. He'd said it so gently, she could hear his smile. She could hear the wistfulness in it, because he was going to die.

She didn't want him to die.

She tried. He tried; they made slow progress, step by faltering step, under the hot sun, under the cold moon. It had been hard for him to walk. She lent him her body, shouldering his weight, but still it was hard for him walk. They tried. They lay together, in the grass, when he could not walk on, and then, one day, he could not stand up again.

Be that she could have lain with him forever.

The Ache – always, she heard it in his voice, the kind, wistful way he'd given her the word. She heard it on the wind, tasted it in the water. She heard him on the wind, after he'd died. She heard him still.

The Ache – she only felt it in her heart, the weight of missing him, the weight of loss. Be that she could die of it; perhaps she had.

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF REKINDLED LOVE!
Kin Name: You Only Live Twice
Drabble:

You Only Live Twice had never thought he would ever tread down this path again. In retrospect, that had been silly, considering his name. Then again, in his defense, Bitter End had very much tried to kill him.

He had never quite recovered from the vicious epithets she'd hurled at him the night she'd left (and the death threats, and death not-threats). For the longest time, he'd looked over his shoulder at every whispering leaf. He'd flinched to hear the mere word: bitter. He hadn't even been able to persuade himself to use it in his songs – which really made singing about bittersweet partings a bit of a fuss. It had been months, perhaps a year, before the memory of her voice faded to a sigh on the wind – before he could heave a cautious breath, and think, ah, perhaps he might never see her again (and thus not die).

And then, of course, he had. She did not try to kill him.

Many things, it turned out, had changed. For one, she looked half a caiman now, which was strange, and also ridiculously hot. It appeared that the Motherfather had touched her. Along with that enlightenment, it seemed, she had gained more prudence, and sense. She apologised – apologised! The Bitter End of old knew not that word – for the conclusions she had jumped to, the things she had said, and her numerous attempts to murder him. It had been…incredible. In his heart, he could feel the old, familiar stirrings. She had always been an incredible doe.

But, ah, he was no fool, and no fool at this game. He could tell her heart belonged to another, now.

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF BLOOMING LOVE!
Kin Name: Just Prevail
Drabble:

There was beauty in all seasons, Just Prevail would say – certainly, he would recite into his neverending poems, that he haunted half The Friends with, any time that he could get one to stay still and listen for longer than a second. Ah, he loved the beauty in all seasons – that was the poetic way to look at it, because, of course, there was. But – what was that? He'd turned aside, disconsolate. An admission – a confession? Perhaps…well…not winter. But that was blasphemy! Not winter? With its blankets of snow, and its frigid bleak skies – black trees, bare, the melancholy thrill of a bird not flown south. A poet's w…inter dream! And yet, Prevail, the poet, did not care for it?

Oh. Of course. Because it's gone and killed his flowers off. If there was one thing he loved more than poetry… He was pining, positively dying (of consumption, probably) in this long, bleak winter. He hadn't seen so much as a petal in months. He would waste away – he would, appropriately, wither. But – oh, there! A leaf! Perhaps the first leaf. Granted, it wasn't a flower, but spring must be ahead. Spring was coming, with it's…pink flowers. And white flowers. And red flowers. And…blue flowers? I don't know much about flowers, but – oh, no, please, I really don't need to know what are those pink flowers, or those blue flowers. Look, Prevail, I'm just saying: spring is coming, and you can get back to your blooming love.

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF FADING LOVE!
Kin Name: Asphodel
Drabble:

Asphodel had three daughters. They were such beautiful girls. Three beautiful daughters. Mimosa looked like him, wind-tossed, grey, and dark. But she had a spark – such a spark! – that was not like him at all. Myrrh was pale, and smooth, and wise, like a tree, a living tree, smooth-grained. Hellebore, secretive, behind her heavy hair; her heavy hair that swung near to her hooves, dark, and wise, and secretive. Ah – ahh, Hellebore looked the most like their mother, their beautiful mother. Such a beautiful doe. Dark, and grey, and wise, full of secrets, behind her heavy hair, that swung near to her hooves. So beautiful. Like a sigh. Like a graveyard, full of secrets. Such a beautiful doe.

Asphodel had three daughters – four – he had seven. And two sons. Their mother, pale, and grey, like a graveyard. Full of secrets. A mystery. So beautiful. He had four sons – two. Three daughters. Seven. All his children, so beautiful. Like their mother. Their mothers. Full of secrets.

Asphodel had children. They were dark, and pale, and grey, like him. He had children. He remembered. He loved them, all, so beautiful. He had seen them. He loved them. And their mothers…their mothers.

Asphodel had.

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF SELF LOVE!
Kin Name: The Ghost of You Lingers
Drabble:

The Ghost of You Lingers was very young yet, when she understood how frighteningly wrong her family was. It wasn't that they had two fathers, or that father was their Mother, it was that Father was a monster, and she had known it then. Father favoured girls, and she looked the most like Mother, so Father never hurt her, just smiled, and said sinister words that wound into her bones. But Moon Over Ghost Boughs was a boy, and dark, and small, and she knew the things that Father did were wrong.

"Come with me," she had said to Ghost Boughs, once they were old enough, "we will leave together."

But Bough was timid, he had always been, and shy, and very scared of Father. He dared not leave.

"You must come," she said, "I cannot protect you if we are apart."

"Father is not so bad," Bough said.

For a moment, she thought that maybe she must stay. She could not protect him if they were apart. Mother tried his best, but he couldn't always be there, and he was scared. For Bough's sake, she thought, maybe she must stay.

But after all, she left. Because the words that Father said wound into her bones. Because Bough was timid and just would not leave. Because you must live for yourself – sometimes you must live for yourself – or you might never live.

A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF NO LOVE!
Kin Name: Bruise Pristine
Drabble:

Bruise Pristine has seen many things in her life. Some have been good, most have been bad. They have happened. One by one, she has watched her siblings wander out into the world, giving promises they would return, or at least visit, but none have. Not one. Not White Leaf, elegant and lady-like. Collide – but then, their mother had always said he was more like their father, and their father, neither had ever returned. Even Scars of Your Love, born of the same sac. Her twin, just like her, but opposite in every way inside. Excitable, dramatic Scars of Your Love. He had sworn, but never returned. She supposed they were out there, somewhere.

Some things have been good, or so they tell her. Bitter End, whom their mother had always fretted over, bitter and paranoid as she was, had had children. Ergo, Pristine had nephews and nieces. They looked well, despite their mother's absence in their childhood. Half of them, she saw from time to time. And then Bitter End had become a Legendary. She had a caiman's tail, and jaw, now. A miracle of sorts, their mother said.

Once Pristine had met a buck. He was a quiet sort, in love with trees. He had big eyes, and a haunted face. One day, he, too, did not return.

She felt nothing, through all this. Pristine could not feel. No anger, no sorrow, no fear, no hate. No love.