|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sat Oct 11, 2008 3:06 pm
 Ampheres was glad to leave the swamp behind - his brother might like it, but the stickyness of the whole fetid place got to him after a while, and his tail wasn't nearly as effective at swishing off midges as Islington's was.
But, he had to admit... the fizzing when the little insects came into contact with his pulses of plasmid energy was quite amusing, even if twitching dead bugs off of his back was less so.
The deep forest was much better, clean and cool and silent. Not many Soquili came this far into the darkness, the trees pressed close together and nearly blocking the sun in their endless battle for light. But his family carried their own lights. They had no need for the sun.
"Mother? Father?" Ampheres called out, pausing in the twilight beneath the leaves, then glancing back at his brother.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 13, 2008 2:53 pm
 Islington began to relax again as the dimness under the trees enfolded him again. He had never liked the exposed feeling of open country, the sense that eyes unseen might be following him; in the swamp, he felt more secure in his solitude, and here the silent press of the trees comforted him, stirred faint mirage-like echoes of the Place he saw in his dreams. The lights that he and Ampheres carried were more than enough to illuminate the space around them.
Soon they would see Mother again, and Father. Islington followed his brother, sweet fuzzed memories of childhood rising up like a wave as they traveled. Oh, yes. He had been away too long.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Dec 29, 2008 1:07 pm
A shadow moved in the darkness, under a soft green glow. "Who.... ah." The green flicked on, then off, then resolved itself into glowing eyes as Flip moved closer to his sons, his ears pricked up with vague surprise. "Ampheres, Islington... both of you? What's the occasion?"
"Do we need an occasion to come together? We're family. That is enough." Ampheres bumped cheeks with his father, then turned. "Where is she? Mother?"
"Back here, in the thicket," Flip said, stifling a sigh - it was always their mother, always; he was there, but sometimes he felt like such an outsider among his own mate and children! There was a fever dream that only they shared, that only they understood, and he was ignorant to it. He tossed his head and then slipped back into the thicket, pushing the thorns aside with his horn.
The underside of the leaves reflected the plulsing glow of Rapture's lights, and the mare lifted her head up, then whuffed and got to her feet. "My pretty ones," she crooned, sidling up to Flip and leaning on him before staring with a happy smile at her sons. The strange mare was never more lucid than when surrounded by her family.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
