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 Posted: Tue Jun 29, 2010 10:42 am
What did he have to do today? As far as he knew, nothing at all. What had he done yesterday? He couldn't remember. If he knew the first thing about leaving, he would; in an instant. Perhaps he would realize how much he loved the swamp after he had left, but it was frustrating to feel trapped there. He longed for the places he had heard of in story, and for the one he had glimpsed when he was so very young: An open plain, with tall, golden grasses. So unlike his own colours.
Undone's rounded ears flattened against the side of his head in defeat. He opened his silver eyes to look closely at a flower, and nudged it with his nose. These white flowers smelled so sweetly; he would have to ask what they were called, if he ever found someone to ask. He had lived with others, before, but today he felt as though he had never spoken to another living thing. The silence was heavy, all around him, and he felt his naming dream all over again. What he wouldn't give to unravel and float away on a breeze. Or even to talk to someone, maybe; which seemed an impossible task.
Was Undone always that depressing? No... probably not. Perhaps it was just not his day.
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Posted: Thu Jul 08, 2010 7:02 am
She had been nosing around for a while now, poking at flowers and twigs and leaves. Earlier in the day she'd almost been bitten by a snake, but luckily (or not quite so) she'd happened to trip over a rock while running away, and had crushed the snake when she fell on it. Happy accidents. They were a huge part of her life.
At present she was wandering, seeking familiarity or company. Waterspark had gone off on an adventure, and she felt the loneliness acutely. She did not like to be alone. As she walked, her nose found a familiar scent. It was a wistful sort of fragrance, sweetly melancholic and slightly citrusy- the scent of moonblooms, so named for the way they looked to the moon, instead of the sun. In a matter of hours, when the sun had risen to the top of the sky, they would be dead, pure-white petals scattering like ashes in the wind. They were her favourite flowers, for the way they drooped their heads shyly, not daring to face the world.
But under the fragrance of the flowers there was another smell; somewhat familiar, too. It was a smell that seemed close to her own, and that was what led her closer to the buck lying amongst the flowers. She felt, somehow, a connection to him.
Stepping gingerly to avoid crushing the flowers, she approached and greeted him with a simple
"Hello."
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Posted: Fri Jul 09, 2010 8:21 am
Undone had not heard the doe approach. He was busy dreaming of what could be, and what was not; maybe it was a lullaby the flowers sang, not a love song nor a wistful one. Why did the doe look so familiar? He could not smell her from where he lay in the flowers, as their scent was overpowering, but her face... and her colours. She even lacked the back-spines which were present on many of their kind, as he did. Undone put all this together, and could not help but wonder: Do we share blood?...
It took him some time before he was able to squeeze out a response. "H-hey." Then a long pause, and he listened to the flowers again, inhaling deeply. "You look familiar."
Undone was not used to hearing his own voice. It had been so long since he had spoken to anyone, anyone at all; lately he really had become a recluse, wandering across the swamp. He had grown accustomed to the voices of things which did not typically speak: wind blowing by the dead bark spines of trees which could not stand the water of the swamp; the wings of flies and other pests; feathers as they fell from nesting birds. All these things Undone was fond of and familiar with. What could he do, to respond to this doe? She was pretty, but there was something strange in her prettiness; something that felt like looking at a part of himself. It seemed silly, to him. He was coloured with much more white, and she had different facial markings. She didn't have the rounded ears like him... He flattened his ears against his head and they drooped to the sides, while he lay his head back in the flowers. Was she or wasn't she familiar? He simply could not make up his mind. He felt like maybe there was a connection, but he'd never met family or even seen families together to really understand that there might be a blood-tie between them.
Instead, his attention wandered back to the blossoms. Their white petals and sweet fragrance... "Say," he started, "What are these flowers, I wonder?"
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Posted: Fri Jul 09, 2010 8:48 am
Familiar? She cocked her head to the side, slightly. Familiar? No, not quite. She was pretttttty sure she had never seen him before, and she told him so.
"I don't think we've met before, actually." And yet something held her certainty back. What was it? She couldn't quite place this feeling. Perhaps it was in the way his voice faltered while hers was strong; perhaps in the way that he seemed so forlorn, while she was always carefree. Perhaps they were two halves of the same thing. That might work. But she shrugged the thought aside when she heard his question.
"These flowers?" She flicked her tail, scattering petals. "They're called moon-blooms, because they bloom at night and die in the day. They're my favourite flowers."
All things considered, spending a day talking to this stranger-not-stranger while Waterspark was off adventuring seemed like a pretty good idea, and so she lay down in the flowerpatch, facing him.
"You? Which flowers do you like best?"
And as an afterthought:
"What is your name?"
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Posted: Fri Jul 09, 2010 2:38 pm
"No.. you're right. We've never met before." Undone closed his eyes. He huffed, took a deep breath and got to his feet. What had he seen in her, anyway? Nothing; it must have been the remnants of a dream. They'd never met before, so he couldn't see a reason she would look familiar. Still, if he tilted his head just this way, and looked her in the eye, she almost seemed to look... no, it must just be the lights, the dream, whatever. Irrational things. Undone was constantly struggling to make sense of his world, trying to let it fall apart and yet keep it together. He was too busy trying to do all these quiet, internal tasks to be very good at interactions. He suspected things would be no different with this stranger, however familiar he kept thinking she looked. She flicked her tail, and petals scattered. Secretly, he mourned their violent flight. Undone lay back down in the flowers. He was pleased, however momentarily, that she joined him there. He tilted his head to survey her.
"Favourite?... mine too, I think. Or maybe I like other flowers better. I don't know the difference." Undone surveyed the damage with his silvery eyes, flattening his round ears against his head again. He felt tired today. Would he always feel this way? "I visit them often, though; moon-blossoms. I like that name." Then, more quietly, "I wish I was a moon-blossom..."
He looked at them a while longer, regarding them, clinging to their soft scent. How appropriate that Undone should love blossoms bound to die each day. "Do they live again every night? Or are new ones made to take their place?" He wondered if they were all fake, all crafted by some passing Kimeti as a joke, and here he was, sitting in the flowers, inhaling their scent. Even if they were fake, Undone adored them.
"Name? Undone, is what I wish I was, is what I am named after. The undoing of all things." Undone's eyes half-closed, and he surveyed the doe again. Still, something nagged him at the back of his mind. He was slightly comforted, but afraid, of how different she might be from him. At least he was enjoying the company, for now. "What is your name, if I may ask?"
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Posted: Fri Jul 09, 2010 10:41 pm
Confusion was what came off most strongly when she regarded him; the way he was one thing and yet another, the way he seemed to perpetually be fighting some inner conflict. Perhaps he just needed to smile and let go of a few things. It always worked for her.
"Moon-blooms," she corrected. "There is a story about them, and why they can only be found by the sides of a watering-hole. But that story is a long one."
A pause.
"I do not think you would like to be a moon-bloom, though," she laughed. "It was not a happy story." Endless Rain looks him in the eye, wondering what he's really thinking. Wants to nudge him into a smile; unhappiness is not a recognizable part of her life and it makes her slightly uneasy. For now, all she can do is laugh and hope it catches. She wants to cheer him up.
"They die every night," she says gently, "but in their fragility lies their beauty. They remind us how life is short, and should be enjoyed."
Another silence follows, and she regards their surroundings. Beside them the watering hole is quiet, mirroring the lazy sky. Ripples from falling leaves chase clouds across the surface, catching and eating them, only to fade away. Undone. She ponders his name, then gives him hers.
"I am known as Endless Rain," she says. "Though you may like to call me Rain, for short."
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Posted: Sat Jul 10, 2010 6:50 am
Undone tilted his head to the side, confused, his silvery eyes boring into her soft ones, as if to say: What difference does it make, bloom or blossom? Does it stop it from being what it is? Undone was not one concerned with being right. He had known these blossoms for a long time now, and although it was nice to have a name for them, he didn't believe it changed what they were. Undone felt that even if they had no name, they would continue to die. Even if he had never found the word to express his dream, he would still yearn to unravel and become part of everything. Finally, he said, "I did not realize I misspoke."
Although it wasn't on purpose, Undone did not laugh back. It wasn't that he was particularly upset or markedly trying to be serious; he simply did not understand the sound, all the time. Did it well up somewhere? Could you catch it? Replicate it? Share it? Undone shifted his weight. "Why would I not want to be a... moon-bloom? Is the story a long one?" He listened carefully as the doe spoke. He was surprised, but a little refreshed, that she felt things which had never occurred to him. Death did not scare Undone; he felt like it was simply one way to achieve his goal, though he was sure there was another way, if he could just find it. To him, the flowers represented something untainted by sorrow. They represented only hope, beauty and devotion.
"Thank you for your name, Rain." He hesitated, shortening it like he had been offered. He laid his head down and looked up at her, his eyes unintentionally wide. She seemed so intent on being happy, and yet her name did not seem to suggest that. Something without end. How unhappy that would make Undone.
Although Undone wanted to ease the tense environment, his smiles and laughter were rare, even when he felt good. He wasn't about to change that, or forget it. It wasn't a conscious effort not to cheer up, or something, he just wasn't quick to let go like that. He was so used to silence.
"Do you usually wander around on your own? It seems unusual."
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