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 Posted: Thu May 24, 2012 8:47 pm
If Meets-the-Sea returns from her journey, she will find the cave curiously devoid of life. The mouth of the cave yawns up out of the dirt like a black mouth, and inside there is no bustle of activity. The girls -- Many Voices and Desert Spring -- are gone, presumably on a forage. Knows No Better is gone. Even the fennec and Pillar, who normally chatter and n** and chase one another underfoot, are gone. The cave is deserted, which is unlike the place. Perhaps, since Walks Without Rhythm is gone, the glue that holds the odd family together has gone with him. The wind echoes hollowly within the cave, a sound like breathing. The only thing that moves is the tough blades of sawgrass and the occasional spill of sand from where the wind had driven it up against the side of the rock; otherwise, there is nothing. It is strange indeed.  There is a mound of sand next to the entrance of the cave, a small dome of it; if Meets ponders it for a moment, eventually the sand shifts, spilling with a rustling hiss off of a turtle shell. But it is no mere turtle; the shell bears the markings of her mate's coat. There is a stripe of bright blue along the side of the shell that is distinctive indeed, and from within the shadows of the shell blaze two bright blue eyes, piercing in the darkness: It is Slide. It is Walks Without Rhythm. This she will know immediately and intimately. But he is now a turtle.
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Posted: Thu May 24, 2012 10:01 pm
In the last moments of her dream, Meets-the-Sea thought she had caught a glimpse of her mate, his blue-on-blue eyes glowing in the encroaching darkness. She awakened with his name on her lips, calling out, her own now glowing eyes searching for him -- but he was not there. As the dream had faded, fingers of sleep curling away from her mind like mist, the next thing Meets had looked to was the children she carried. They had not accompanied her in the dream world, but now that she was back in her own body she could feel that the soft swell of her stomach had returned. Sighing with relief, Meets took inventory of the rest of her new form. Head, neck, torso, legs, tail -- she stretched the last out in front of her, opening and closing the frond-like webs. And, come to think of it, the muscles on her head felt different as well -- she tensed them, felt the ridge rising and the flaps of the fin spreading out. Very interesting indeed. Her self-examination was cut short by a sudden pain in her stomach, not unfamiliar to the doe who had already mothered three clutches. It was nearly time, and she was -- she looked around, noticing her surroundings for the first time since she woke. Well, she wasn't sure where she was, but it was certainly too far from the borderlands for her to walk back to the cave in her condition.  Her second body -- a crane -- appeared before her, ghostly and see-through. Would taking its shape hurt her unborn children somehow? She worried for a moment, but knew she had no other option. With a deep breath, Meets let go of her self and shifted fully into the shape of the crane, the silhouette of her mare form turning ghostly itself and then disappearing altogether. With a rustle of wings, the crane took to the air and was gone. --- When the crane lands again, it is at the door to a cave in the borderlands. The long white legs step forward through the sand at the entryway and stop at the sight of the familiarly patterned mound of the turtle's shell that waits there. For a moment, the soft black-purple glow of the bird's eyes only stare, and then it leans down slowly to peck a gentle knock at the creature's shell. If a crane's face could show amusement, this one's would.
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Posted: Thu May 24, 2012 10:10 pm
Apparently the Motherfather, in its great wisdom, saw fit to give Walks Without Rhythm a cave which he could take with him wherever he went. But sometimes that is not entirely appropriate. Sand will pour off of Slide as he gets to his feet; the form of the turtle slowly fades, becoming replaced by the lean form of Slide -- but Slide-as-stag. He is thinner, sleeker, leaner in this shape; it somehow suits him better. Everything that is non-essential seems to have been pared away, except for the long, vicious-looking horns that sweep back from his brow, nearly as long as his body. They are beautiful, but on Slide's form they appear meant for a purpose, to ward off invaders or as a silent display of ability. They are intimidating; they are also completely at odds with his other-shape. He looks her over appraisingly, fondness evident on his features: her look suits her. "It took you long enough, woman. Times have grown interesting."
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Posted: Thu May 24, 2012 10:29 pm
 If anyone else had called Meets-the-Sea 'woman' so flippantly, her reaction would have been none too pleasant. From Slide, however, the term holds more than a hint of endearment, and she takes it in stride. The crane takes a step back, shakes its feathers out a bit, and then disappears, its form flowing into the larger shape of the mare like waves washing off a rock. There is a grin across her changed features. "You don't seem to have missed much, buried in sand as you were. Was that a turtle shell I saw you hiding in?" Her tone is teasing, but her next words are more sincere. "I'm so glad you are alright. I thought I saw you for a moment, in my dream..." her eyes roam over his new body, taking it all in. "But I was not expecting this." Her tail flicks out in an expansive gesture, showing she means not only his new form but her own as well.
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Posted: Thu May 24, 2012 10:34 pm
Slide would not presume to call anyone else 'woman.' He would likely not even think to do it. He is a solitary creature by nature, if an outspoken one. He shrugs, looking over his mate's changed form; the light glints off of his horns. "We certainly didn't ask for it. But we must learn to appreciate what we meet."
The fond look he gives her gives solidity to that sentiment.
He blinks, trying to piece together what might have happened just before his dream. Reasoning tells him that he must have collapsed just outside of the cave; it is not a place he would have fallen asleep at. And it seems as though -- time has passed. He frowns.
"Time must have passed. I was buried in sand." But it was comfortable. He does not mention that the turtle shape was his choice -- or what he thinks was his choice, though it was predetermined. The Motherfather has a sense of humor. "I don't know where anyone has gone. And if the damned turtle comes back, and sees me like that--" The thought does not bear finishing.
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Posted: Thu May 24, 2012 10:53 pm
For a moment, Meets-the-Sea can only stare at her mate, his words echoing in her ears, her own voice mingled with them. "Funny." She tilts her head. "I said the same thing to the motherfather." She smiles, the beatific smile of happiness that she reserves only for him. She must have truly seen him in her dream then, if he could repeat her words so exactly -- the motherfather knew their connection, surely, and had somehow helped them to enhance it.
"You worry about the turtle too much," Meets laughs, stepping forward and reaching her nose out to nuzzle into his weathered shoulder. He smelled warm, sandy -- just as he always had. She closes her eyes and breathes deep. "Besides, I'm sure he'll be more than wary of you with those horns." She chuckles. "You'd better not stab me in your sleep."
The mare looks over her mate's shoulder into the cave, resting her head across the place where his neck slides smoothly into his back. "I hope the girls have not been too worried, though I'm sure they can take care of themselves. To tell the truth, I think we'll be the ones needing them soo--ahh!" Meets' words are cut off by another contraction, the first since she resumed her kimeti form after the flight home. It is fleeting, however, and they are still far apart. She pulls her head back and looks up at Slide. "Perhaps we should make sure the cave is ready."
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Posted: Fri May 25, 2012 9:45 am
"Where are the girls?" Meaning Many Voices and Desert Spring. "You'll take the back room." His blue eyes flick to her, watchful, their glow even more pronounced now. It is not a question, or even really a request. Slide is worried about his unborn children, especially since they too have gone through what amounts to an ascension within their mother's womb. Those children may come forth into the swamp knowing things no children should know, not at their age.
He shakes his head. "I will find Spring and Many Voices." Spring would make him feel better about things. He ponders the fact that this is likely not what the swamp intended when it ascended him, this flurry of confusion. "Do you have time yet?"
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Posted: Fri May 25, 2012 9:41 pm
Meets-the-Sea nods in response to her mate's question as she enters the cave -- the cool shade feels good on her skin. "It will not be for a while. The contractions have only just begun, and they are still far apart." The awareness of her own body that the mare has learned will help her remain in control of her situation. She sips some water from the stone catchbasin as she passes it on her way to the back room. Though the cave seems to have been abandoned for a few days at least, the water is fresh and clear. Thank the motherfather for small miracles.
"Go find them. I will be fine, my love." She grins at Slide playfully, a teasing twinkle in her eye. "I have lain sacs before." There is a slight movement in the corner of the back room as she enters it and she pauses, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. When they do, she watches as the little blue and white ball of fluff that is her foxbun uncurls from where she was sleeping and hops over to her master. "And look, Seafoam is here to watch over me."
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Posted: Fri May 25, 2012 11:46 pm
If the foxbun hops placidly over to Meets-the-Sea, the fennec's reaction is less controlled. Having been curled into a ball with Seafoam, the tiny fox leaps up to its feet, frizzes out its tail (which nearly makes a match for its oversize ears), yips and barks in a voice shrill enough to make Slide himself wince, and then immediately bounds for its master. A moment later its soft head bumps against Slide's ankle. The fennec's ears are as soft as a foal's nose. "And Dune," Slide rumbles, looking down at the thing. "I imagine Pillar cannot be far."
He does not mention the turtle.
But looking back out of the back room, Slide tosses his head and his horns scrape against the top of the cave, making a dry scraping sound and causing a small shower of dust to fall around them both: it makes him immediately lower his head. He is not used to the new appendages yet. "If you wait here, I will go find him, and perhaps the girls as well." He will slip past her with his odd boneless gait, the effect somehow heightened in his new form, and call from the mouth of the cave, "I will be back within the hour."
It is entirely more talk than Slide is prone to indulging in: but he is worried, and he has not seen Meets pregnant before. The idle thought comes and goes that the blonde stag who visited was right. She had been pregnant then, but he had thought little of it! The thought makes him make a grunt of irritation as he makes his way back up out of the cave; a moment later he is gone, presumably to look about for the mongoose and the turtle.
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