[FIN] Home Sweet Home [Slide, Meets-the-Sea, & Fix]

[phoenix kiss]

The cave should have been just as he had left it: perhaps with the addition of some dirt and grit blown in from the borderlands. It had weathered many days in silence - Walks Without Rhythm had left it to go to the Games and had not returned. It was, after all, just a cave, and he was relatively certain that nothing that wasn't kin would find his hidden water stores. There weren't even crumbs left behind, thanks to an industrious and busy-pawed mongoose.

With Meets-the-Sea returning with him, all should have been fine. His stockpiles were such that even two adult kimeti would be taken care of. Slide did not himself eat much (and that was obvious); really, the water would be the only thing needing attention, and he was a wily old buck: it would be addressed in time. Even if one storm had passed through, they would still have enough water to live comfortably for awhile.

With the sun a large, burning ball on the horizon, Slide was the first to step into the shade-darkened cave, and after a moment Meets had the satisfaction of hearing him start in surprise -- one single syllable, more a grunt than a word.

"Hnn."

There was something in the cave, which had taken up residence with a will. Two stony, stupid eyes peered out at him from within the safety of a huge shell. The tortoise did not look as though it was interested in moving. At the buck's intrusion it pulled its stumpy legs and wrinkled, ancient head further into its shell, all but daring the kimeti to approach it. To try and make it move. The tortoise had seen summers pass before the kimeti was even a twinkle in its mothers' eye!

Slide grunted. "There is a tortoise in here."  

[hybridic]

Meets would never before have thought that she would be so happy to see a place like the borderlands -- flat and still and nothing at all like her beloved ocean. Something about Slide's presence, however, made the stark landscape look beautiful. Living out here was, like living in the lands between the swamp and the sea, an art that one needed to perfect. And Slide had indeed perfected it. The simple grace of his life fascinated her, and she wanted to learn his ways and become a part of them.

It was always the strangest little things that threw off Slide's stoic demeanor. Meets was not surprised, then, when she heard the startled grunt from where he stood at the entrance of the cave. Knowing that if it had been something dangerous, the buck's reaction would be decisive and immediate -- her mind harkened back to the caiman attack a few days ago -- Meets trotted forward to stand next to Slide, their sides brushing. "There is indeed," she replied, eyeing the ancient creature and taking a few more steps forward into the cave. She looked at the tortoise for a few more moments before turning her head back over her shoulder to look at Slide. "Is it a problem?" she asked, knowing how scarce food and water were here and aware that her own presence was probably already putting a strain on Slide's precious stores.  

[phoenix kiss]

"It won't be," he said, expression still mildly confused. What on earth was a tortoise doing here, and how long had it been here? It was going to be a chore to get it back out. He sighed, and his side moved against hers, ribs expanding underneath his pelt. He looked at her sideways, as was his wont: "We may be visiting its cave now."

The buck approached warily, lowering his head; after a moment he peered into that shell, eyes casting a blue glow into it -- and then seemed satisfied when it didn't bite him. At least not immediately. Tortoises looked soft and old, their flesh wrinkled and loose inside of their shells, but they had strong jaws and hard beaks. They could likely snap a shinbone. "I suppose we have a tortoise."

He turned around to regard her, expression mild. "He won't be a problem." He grinned, suddenly, the expression fleeting. "If you were worried."  

[hybridic]

Meets couldn't help but chuckle at the way Slide's unusual sense of humor manifested itself -- his emotions were sometimes so constrained, but that only meant when he shared a feeling, it was a genuine one. "I'm sure he will be a welcome addition," she replied, coming up behind Slide and looking down at the tortoise. "No one will dare bother the cave with him here." There was an affronted chittering from atop Meets' back, and she turned to look at the little mongoose that sat there. "And you too, of course, Pillar," she laughed.  

[phoenix kiss]

[PHOENIX FAILS AT TENSES lol ]

"Pillar will keep him in line," Slide says, already regretting his choice of word. 'Him' means that he's begun to think of the turtle as a being, not just an irritating thing in his cave, that is going to eat up all his food stores -- he sighs, and then resigns himself to fate. A moment later he simply wanders farther into the cave, looking about -- ignoring the tortoise, since his pride has been momentarily wounded. The cave has the still, waiting feeling of something temporarily abandoned, but it is still good to be home, and everything is just as he left it.

The mongoose leaps off of Meet's back to stand on his master's; abruptly he clambers up Slide's neck, sitting on top of his head among his dark hair, little hands curling into the strands. After a moment the mongoose seems to reconsider and then leaps off of the buck's head; Slide recoils a bit from the sudden leap and then chuckles as the tortoise swings its ponderous head around to look at Pillar on its back.

A week passes: the tortoise does not leave and, in fact, has been given a name: Knows No Better. Because it truly does not.

Slide and Meets-the-Sea will eventually accompany the ancient old thing to the edge of the marshes, where water stands still and ankle-deep: the better to feed the tortoise with, who tears up water-weeds with a will. For the past ten minutes, Slide has been gulping down water, and has not looked up.  

[Rejam]

After some time the sound of snapping undergrowth heralds an approach. Whatever it is, it's clearly not looking for trouble or attempting stealth, and so is probably not a threat: it's crashing around in a way that only a Kin would, and a particularly oblivious Kin, at that.

The source of the noise emerges some seconds later from a break in the treeline a few yards away. It is a lithe and limber little creature, if a little frail-seeming, even for an Acha, and it is, in the way of Acha, difficult to determine its gender. If Meets and Slide are acquainted with Acha identification, they may recognize the curled horns that set the little thing apart as a buck, albeit possibly a very young or simply very effete one.

He is engaged in a strange game, a sort of clumsy, sudden dancing. For a moment it is hard to tell what exactly he is doing--he is, in any case, clearly oblivious to the fact that he is being watched--but as he emerges fully from the trees, he lets out a triumphant whoop and stomps, definite and proud, on his shadow. And then again. And then he launches into a sprint, all the while eyes on his shadow, legs stretching further and further, until he is engaged in a curious, stiff-limbed leaping.

The Acha is playing tag with himself.

He wheels to get a better angle on his opponent, and is confronted with Meets and Slide.

Slightly breathless, but unafraid and unashamed, and only ten seconds after he's barreled out of the treeline (having done everything in a bit of a rush), he chirps, "Oh! Top of the morning and a fine afternoon, Lord and Lady, and... strange large elderly creature."  

[hybridic]

Meets-the-Sea has been intermittently munching on the water-weeds and sipping of the water itself as Slide drinks -- probably to excess. His body is certainly not used to dealing with such great quantities at water all at once, and she pushes aside a momentary worry that the deluge will make him sick. Slide knows himself and his body, however, and is surely aware of his limits. Her own body hasn't quite adjusted to the diet of the borderlands yet and she savors the water-rich plants with relish, so when the acha tumbles past the trees, she doesn't notice the creature until he is quite suddenly upon them. When he speaks, the doe can't help but chuckle a little at his address.

"I don't know about Slide, but I've certainly never been called a Lady before," Meets replies, smiling down at the breathless little thing. "And this strange old creature is called a tortoise...haven't you seen one before?"  

[phoenix kiss]

Slide's ears flick up when Meets speaks, and he picks his head up, water glittering from his short beard and his chin. He stands perfectly still, tail lashing against his flanks, and observes.

The tortoise, however, is not disturbed in the least, and continues his feast nearly at the acha's feet. Slide regards the creature for a moment and then looks up to the Acha, "Would you like him? He's yours if you wish."  

[Rejam]

He dances away from the tortoise in reply to the offer, although his leeriness may be feigned. It is hard to say. "We have them in the desert," he answers Meets, "but they tend to be... I dunno. More portable, you know? He's nearly as big as I am!" He adds: "There's good eating on one of those, if you can get to it."  

[hybridic]

Meets can't help but snort as Slide tries to feist the tortoise off on the acha. "Ugh, no thanks," she replies, eyeing Knows No Better with scrutiny. "I don't eat meat...and it would take the strength of the motherfather to get through that thick shell."

She smiled down at the acha kindly. "My name is Meets-the-Sea," she continues, "And this is my ... companion, Walks Without Rhythm." Meets glances over at Slide, her eyes full of fondness. Then, turning back to the acha: "His dream was of the desert," she adds, knowing how curious the buck is about the place and fearing that he might not bring up the subject when he finally has the chance.  

[phoenix kiss]

"Yes," Slide says, his expression faraway, and not in the least guarded; an astute kin would be able to pin his expression as longing. Dissatisfaction with everything outside his dream. He has sought the vast whaleback dunes all of his life, and never found them. "I was hoping that you could tell me about the desert -- the last acha I met was not ... so clear-headed," he says, thinking about Catching Fire. "If you do not mind, of course."  

[Rejam]

"Oh," says the Acha, almost dismissively, "it's not so great. Hot as a sand dog's balls sitting on a sunlit dune at midday nearly all the time and your eyes get sort of tired of yellow and blue. Nice and green here! And pink, and... everything." He flops down abruptly, unceremoniously, and cocks his head like a puppy. One expects him nearly to say: "baroo?"

Instead, he launches into a speech, cheery, chattering, incessant. "I think you've got a pretty tidy deal out here, you know? Water everywhere you want, plenty to do and see, you can totally evade someone you don't wanna talk to just by pretending not to see them and ducking behind a tree--try and avoid someone who's mad at you out in a big open sand pit and tell me you long for a desert. I tell you," he sucks in a breath, refills his lungs, continues, "if it weren't for this blasted humidity you'd have everything pat. Also no sand in itchy places, if you catch my drift, all apologies to the lady. That's the worst. My name's Bald Bottom," he finishes, apropros of nothing.  

[hybridic]

The expression on Slide's face is a familiar one, and, Meets hates to admit, one that causes a twinge of some emotion to pull across her chest -- jealousy, perhaps? Although it is, of course, absurd to be jealous of a place. And she, she realizes, holds the ocean in the same light that Slide views his precious desert -- it calls to her, and she knows that she would be lost without it. To never have seen the place of your dream! It is a struggle she cannot place, but the longing in Slide is one she can understand, nevertheless.

The easy dismissal of the place by the acha, however, causes Meets to frown slightly. She casts her eyes sidelong at Slide, hoping he is not too disappointed by the acha's words. "It...it is probably different when you've lived there your whole life," she stumbles in a feeble attempt to run reconnaissance on the situation. "Certainly the swamp seems rather commonplace to us."

When the acha divulges his name, Meets can't help but stare at him for a moment, blinking as the words make their way through her brain. "It..it's a pleasure to meet you," she replies, not wanting to offend. Maybe the name wasn't as absurd to an acha as it sounded to her. But what a strange dream the little creature must have had!  

[phoenix kiss]

Slide blinks at the acha: only because his hair hangs into his face is his expression not easily read. At least by Bald Bottom. Meets-the-Sea will see right through him, of course -- as much as Slide hates that particular capacity of hers. There is disappointment on his features, warring with a compulsive need to keep his face blank and staid. Eventually he stomps a hoof in thought. A swirl of muck clouds the water at his feet and even the tortoise looks up in surprise, disturbed from its afternoon meal.

"Are all Acha like you?" The question is surprisingly direct, but Slide's mind is already awhirl with sifting through the acha's chirruping conversation. His mind was clear, like the water; now the acha has muddied it all up. "The last one I met, his -- his name had something to do with fire. He was much the same." He shakes his head, glancing sidelong to Meets, and then adds, "Of course, there is nothing wrong with that, just -- different."  

[Rejam]

"You mean handsome devils? Yes," he answers brightly. But apparently something stirs at his conscience--and Fix has, above all things, a soft heart--and he backtracks enough to ask:

"What'd you like me to tell you? About home I mean. Dunes turned white in the sunlight, a purple sky so full of stars it shines like daylight, the oases where the hares gather at the edge of the water? Things sleeping beneath the sands? Or the storms?" He shudders at this last. "Great big dry storms that beat you and lash you and sting your eyes and you have to hide behind each other in a big group with your backs turned toward the wind and hope like hell you aren't the sorry bugger that gets stuck on the fringes." Oh. That's not pleasant, after all. Hm. Abort, abort. "Or sunsets! We get a hell of a sunset!" He sits back, pleased to have shown willing, at least.