Welcome to Gaia! ::

Rush of Wind: 2/5

13. Tears

He rarely cried. It wasn't because he never felt sadness; he did. It wasn't because he didn't feel the need to; he did. It was imply that the tears rarely came.

Perhaps it was because he hailed from the desert where tears were a waste of water and his body had never forgotten how to conserve what water he contained in his body.

Or maybe he didn't cry because tears the tears would help nothing since his sadness and his frustration were all the product of an impossible problem. Tears could not give him the release that they offered others. The source of his tears would be always be present, just behind his eyes, taunting him even as he ran and ran and ran.

Sometimes, just sometimes, he managed to shed a few tears in the rush of wind across of his face, lost to him before he could even acknowledge their existence.

153 words

Rises Again | [ 1 , 2, 3, 4 ] | Honorable | 200

He owed him. He hated it, but he owed him.

A week or so ago, he had eaten something he shouldn't have. He couldn't be sure what, only that his stomach had never been in such pain, and he could barely stand it. It had taken all he had not to cry out and merely stay curled beneath a mangrove, trying to wait it out. Apparently he still hadn't been able to conceal his pain though, for a nearby buck had stumbled upon him. Rises had snarled a threat, and the buck had left without a word which should have been the end of that, but a few hours later the same buck had returned, some sort of herb in his mouth. Again, Rises had snarled, his stomach still a ball of pain, but this time the buck ignored him and left the herb at his side. Without another word, he had left.

An hour later, Rises Again's pride gave out and he ate the herb. Comfort followed not long after.

Now, that same pride refused to rest until the debt was repaid. That would, after all, be the honorable thing to do, even if it was to some Kimeti.

Abandoned
Giveforward (4/5) - 100 words

A yellow foxbun peeks its head out from the shrubbery and she hums a little louder. She's good at luring out the little critters. The foxbuns and owlcats, the mice and songbirds. The ocassional rox, mongoose, or watersnake appear once in awhile. Usually its the rabbits that come flocking to her voice. A soft hum or coaxing words. One thing never seems to change no matter the company.

The convoy of creatures buoys her confidence. She opens her mouth wide. The first off-key note sends them fleeing like a crocodile has appeared. She sighs. Abandoned again.

She learn one day.

Rises Again | [ 1 , 2, 3, 4, 5] | Holiday | 161

He woke up weary. Yesterday's trek had been long, as had the day before's, and the day before's. He had been pausing only long enough to eat, hunts which were starting to take longer and longer each time. It was a pace that even a Tidewalker would admire, but the admiration would be tinged with disdain because he or she would know better than to keep it up for this long.

He had been driven by something his sister had said. About being impatient. About considering laying with a Kin. About giving up. It enraged him, even the thought of it. He hadn't been mad at her, but mad at himself, mad at the world that would push them into such a predicament, where they must sully themselves and their blood. So he had sped up his search with this reckless pace that had now clearly taken its toll.

He had to rest. Today he would rest. A Holiday, of sorts.

Misery Loves Company
Bones of the Forgotten | 5 of 5 | 164 words




Another day, another soul to put to rest. Sometimes, he felt like a crusader, intent on his task even if the departed did not wish to move on, doing what had to be done rather what might have been 'right.' With his helpers, he was able to rest kin and animals alike, though the latter were far more eager to move on than the former, it seemed. He always looked to his familiars for aid with the animals but they didn't seem to see the fallen the way he did. Even the ghost foxbun - whom he was always afraid of accidentally sending off - only dealt in the concrete evidence. Sometimes, he wondered if he was mad.

They never judged him, though, and if he was mad, how did he see the forms of the fallen? Was it all in his head? Misery loves company, he thought to himself as the two animals worked on digging up some errant bones. But I'm far from miserable.

He remembers the first time he danced.

Back then he didn’t quite have the word it, but it was better than running and he felt free when he swayed like the grass on the plains. Even as the other Kiokote gave him strange glances and laughed to his face, he still danced.

Later he would travel to the Swamp and meet his first Acha. It was then that his world came together, everything fitting neatly into place. As he had watched the desert born beauty twirl in the most intricate steps, his heart sang with joy and he wept from happiness.

This was what was supposed to have been his and even if his body was wrong, he could be a part of that world.

4/5: Glossbones- Blue

The color of the sky. Robin's egg. Water. No, not that water. How about the stream? Which stream? I don't know, any of them. That's not vibrant enough. How about the color of that buck. Which one? The cute one with the nice butt. And so it went on, the constant bickering of two close siblings who had the inexplicable luck of living together. It was a curse brought on by shared desires and creativity. Heart twins.

Except Glossbones really hated his right now. She was very indecisive. Blue. It wasn't hard! They just had to decide on one color.