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 Posted: Thu Apr 28, 2011 8:17 am
The fifteen minutes that Fade had lost her might have been the most blessedly peaceful fifteen minutes of her entire week - but like a particularly persistent and unwelcome tick, she was right back again yammering triumphantly in her ear about some confession nonsense. "You are drunk," she pronounced, eventually, "so drunk that when you wake up, you'll have forgotten entirely about your wicked deeds, until the consequences catch up with you, whereupon you will regret them most thoroughly. Or you won't, being the shameless hussy you are." Her verdict fell upon drunk ears, the narrative continuing (repeating, perhaps) undaunted. It wasn't long, in other words, before she felt the urgent need to partake in the very poison that had landed her indirectly in this hell.
It normally took an ungodly amount of fermented juice to do her head in, but it was a special occasion and her will to render herself insensate was strong. Finally, the pleasant, buzzy numbness was settling around her perception, and Fade's chattering was no longer as grating as it had been just a while ago. Her suggestions, in fact, were even beginning to sound rather charming - still profoundly idiotic, yes, but endearingly quaint. It was quite entertaining, really, to lollygag near the stage and laugh at the ridiculously twitterpated rhapsodies of kimeti in love, haha, how fun. She rather wished she'd witnessed Fade's moment of glory firsthand now, there was nobody she knew who was better at embarrassing herself in public, it must have been something to behold. She didn't think there was anyone who could top that now - "Me? I don't think so, I'm nowhere near as good at being unbearably stupid as you."
Usually she would never be as gormless as to get riled up over a dare from Fade, but the countless quarts of special drink in her had definitely made this a very special occasion. She joined the queue of course - even at the worst of times she was hardly like her sister - waited her turn, clopped up the stage primly, looking quite unlike she was sloshed out of her mind. Of course, that was when she realised she didn't actually have a buck handy for a love confession - did she even know any bucks who weren't taken or gay? No time like the present, then. Whisking past the curtain up to the edge of the stage, she scanned the crowd for an eligible buck - there, that looked like a goodly fellow, nice blue on his coat. "You there - yes, you. What's your name? Bent Knee? Very good. I love you. Ta, now."
A leap off the stage and that was that. Nothing to it, really. It was just unfortunate for Saddened Eyes that she happened to be the sort of drunk who remembered every last inebriated detail with searing clarity the following morning.
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Posted: Thu Apr 28, 2011 1:54 pm
In the molted light around the stage, one buck in particular did not stand out. His gray coat seemed to blend in the dull shade, and his intricate markings could easily be mistaken by the effect from the moonlight through the thick almost impenetrable leaves. His eyes are the most remarkable and his red orbs were lit with the emotions roiling around the kimeti.
Charm had been chasing after a doe now for a while, and while he was confident she might still have some feelings for him he knew that many times they want their buck to go the extra distance in efforts. And not only that, wouldn’t she be that much more impressed that he professed his love for her among so many others? Well, it didn’t hurt to try.
The buck could see her easily, her coat shimmering in the moonlight. It was as if no matter where she went, the moon went with her. It was one thing he found so enduring, among other things. He made sure his journey to the stage passed her by, and as the doe on the stage professed her love – fake and spontaneous as it might appear – to a blushing buck in the crowd who could not believe he was being singled out, Charm made certain that his soft tail brushed against the scale on her shoulder. But before she could react, the buck continued walking to the stage.
The doe’s appearance on the stage was brisk, and there was a slight gap in those jumping at the chance to get on the stage when Charm confidently walked up. He turned around and looked deeply into the glowing eyes of the doe he cared so much for. No one knew how much time was lost as he remained transfixed by her beauty.
“The moon knows no better when its spare rays glisten against your fur. The swamp does not dampen your ethereal beauty. The sun blinds the eyes, while your own charm only enlightens.” The buck could not help but smile a bit, using his own name in his confession of endearment. “There is not much more I want than to be yours, First Bloom.”
Charm stepped lightly off the stage and all but pranced to return to her side. He was slightly taller, and so looked down to contemplate the look she gave him in return. The buck smiled ever so much, his dull teeth the second brightest thing on his face. “So, what do you say? Can I be yours?”
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Posted: Fri Apr 29, 2011 3:25 pm
Mountainblood was in all respects but one the very model of a strong, handsome, ferocious hunter. He was proud, but did not overstate himself; he was admired by many, but did not cease to admire; he was polite, but willing to wrest his rights from the grasp of whoever dared try hold him back.
In all these ways, he was great; in one way, he was weak, lower than the surliest catfish gulping the mud.
Mountainblood was utterly incapable of expressing his feelings in any way that did not leave him a stuttering, simpering mess. Try as he might, he could never get very comfortable revealing things about himself that were not directly related to the bold and sure actions of the hunter.
Therefore it was with no small amount of distress that he found himself at the spring festival, on the blasted stage of all places. It had taken all the courage he could muster from the parts of himself he used for hunting and survival to get up on stage.
It was, then, with a soft and faltering voice that he spoke through the curtain, opening eloquently;
"Um."
He took a few deep breaths.
"It is not usually in my nature," he drawled carefully, as though feeling his way through a treacherous mire, "to speak like this... before so many, or of matters so... close."
He faltered again as he tried to press on; he wondered again why he was up there on that stage, trying to win a doe that had already been spoken for (never mind the fact that a lot of other kimeti had gotten multiple offers, even besides the five out for unique romantic flings). Mountainblood thought his poem was considerably better, but the point stood that he was a repeat performance, unoriginal in his expression and inelegant in its execution -
Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
"I also have a, a brief poem to recite for the, the doe I would court;"
Gulping down some air, he forced himself to continue, falling into the strange singsong of memorization as he rocked side-to-side on-stage with his eyes closed.
"Dark is a Way
_that leads to my heart;
One way among many,
_or perhaps one apart.
Dark is a Way
_to the side of my mind
To the feelings I hide
_behind hunt, behind pride.
Dark is a Way,
_a path seldom beat,
To the light of my fires,
_but not death in their heat.
Dark is a Way
_you walk down tonight,
But blood of the mountain
_would your footsteps light."
The pause after was short but tense as he considered how to conclude. Almost automatically, he gave this final line.
"I know that you have had other suitors, and perhaps have already chosen among them who you will... who is best suited," he said, voice not much louder than a whisper. "But I wish you to know that, that - I am, I. I'll be here if you want me.
"Thanks," he sighed at last, and retreated out the back side of the stage.
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