[PRP] Swamp Games (Madeira and Casimir)

[Cajmera]

 

[Cajmera]

Well, thought Madeira as she surveyed the landscape in front of her, no one could say she wasn't willing to branch out from the familiar. Instead of the gently rolling grassy hillsides that were a hallmark of the plains, instead, as far as the eye could see was nothing but...bog. She was pretty sure that was the word; bog, or else swamp. Given the choice, she preferred bog. It sounded a lot more melodious than the harsh, flat 'swamp.' Though she knew it was simply a matter of semantics, there was a certain power in words. She was no great public speaker; her own words tended to be rather...plain, actually. But that didn't mean that when it was just Maddie and her thoughts that she couldn't at least try to wax poetic!

She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting when she wandered off this way. She'd been after something different; well, she'd certainly found something different! Surveying the various stands of swamp grass and cattails, interspersed with dark, scummy water, she shook her head with a slight wrinkle of her nose. It seemed like the place should smell funny, but it didn't; not really. It was a wet, damp marshy smell, but not the rotting smell she'd been expecting.

Either way...the marsh/swamp/bog was a surprise. It was huge, for starters; she couldn't see an end to it, looking left or right or forward. Backward didn't count, because of course she knew where THAT end was; she was standing on it! But she didn't know what was beyond the edge of the bog, or if it even had one. She did know one thing, though; she wasn't about to wander off and look!

True, Maddie's prior experiences with bogs were limited, but when she was a filly she had learned the most important rule of bogs: don't trust the appearance of solid ground. One minute, you could think you were safe; the next you'd be sinking so deep into the mud that you'd never be seen again. The water might look shallow from here, but who knew how deep the water actually reached? Making a slight face, Maddie looked around at the tall grasses, the scrubby-looking bushy plants that dotted the swampy landscape. The ground beneath those bushes was probably firmer, but how big a space did that firm ground occupy? How deep did it go? And how did one get from space to space?

No, she thought with a slight shake of her head, it was just too risky to continue. This marsh was an impenetrable as a wall, and she would just have to go around it. Too bad, because it looked like it could be interesting, and she was usually up for adventure! But sinking forever into the mud was not in the cards, not if she had anything to say about it!

Uta

 

[Uta]

Casimir hadn’t expected to find company at the edge of the great swamp. Rather, he hadn’t expected to find company at the edge of his great swamp, if he were perfectly honest, and it was his, thankyouvermuch. It was the one place he could almost guarantee nobody would come to bother him, nobody would come to stare, and best of all, nobody would come to judge. He could blend into the landscape easily enough, particularly when he was caked with mud; best of all, there were insects and small animals galore that he could feast upon without worry. He could devour all the spiders and suck down all the lizards he needed to thrive, without the judgment of his father. He loved his father, but he knew that the spider stallion was not particularly keen over his son’s preference for insects as a treat. He had left the family spiders alone, but Casimir had no choice. . . he had to get protein somewhere! He was not nearly as herbivorous as his appearance suggested, and there were reasons the spirits had granted him sharp fangs. He was a hunter. It was only unfortunate that the spirits had also decided to have part of his jaws sewn together, a sad twist of fate, that left him more or less constantly hungry. He foraged most of his day, but unless he found an absolute hive of insects and lizards, or scavenged from another’s kill, he rarely had enough for a stallion of his size.

Casimir had snuck away from his swamps to slip into the neighboring woods. He had a hankering for red-meat, and was hopeful he could find some sort of dead carcass. Luck had been on his side, and he did indeed find the leftovers of some unfortunate deer; he had feasted, which was why, perhaps, he was in slightly better spirits than he would have been had he been hungry! He had hoped to slip back into his bog when he’d almost run right into Madeira. He’d quickly veered back into the denser foliage, and found himself almost in a panic. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone out this way. In fact, she needed to turn herself around . . . this was his bog! And visitors . . .well. . . he didn’t have any visitors…nobody to sneer at his face, or stare at his wretched tree, or the leaves that tangled within his mane. He was a freak, he knew, and while he hated it, there was nothing to be done about it. His mother had a hair-monster, his father some sort of spider, and he was . . .a tree.

Bah!

His serpent tail flicked irritably as he watched the colorful mare. A small part of Casimir was tempted to step out and simply scare her off; that worked well enough in most cases. Nobody wanted to hang around someone like him, and he didn’t blame them. Others, though, others got mean. They’d stare, they’d gape, they’d poke and prod and question, and Casimir couldn’t handle that. He knew he was a freak. . . he didn’t need it pointed out. As much as he liked attention, he wanted attention for the sake of being something good, and not something so different. So it was, Casimir decided the mare was already moving along the edges. . . let her get lost, for all he cared. And he didn’t, thank you. He just wanted her far enough down so he could bolt it deeper in to the marsh. He knew the paths by heart, knew how to navigate without fear. This was, after all, his true home. So, in hopes of encouraging Madeira to move faster, Casimir let himself growl a warning threat. It was a deep, gravelly sort of sound, and the snarl was clearly meant for lost company. “You’re not welcome here,” he finally stated, just in case she didn’t get the point.
 

[Cajmera]

If it had been only a growl, the encounter probably would have been over right then and there. Maddie might love the idea of adventure and the unknown, but that only extended to unknown fun. She was no fighter, and had never been a daredevil; she wasn't about to hang around anywhere and pick a fight with an obviously upset…something. Because with only a growl to go on, who knew what was really out there? A wolf, a monster, a Kalona…maybe even a skinwalker. Just because growling took away the element of surprise didn't mean the growler was any less dangerous!

Upon hearing the growl, Maddie had rapidly torn her attention away from the seemingly endless expanse of marsh to look around warily. She knew the general direction of the growl, but until she knew where it had come from, she wasn't going to risk bolting right into the teeth of the creature itself! With the growler behind her and the bog in front of her, there were very few options open to her and she had to choose the best one. Maybe if she made a bolt down the edge of the marsh, she’d be able to get away safely…assuming she was sure about the edge of the marsh. With panic on her side, it would be really easy to make a wrong move and end up lost forever in the bog…if whatever it was that growled at her didn't eat her first.

However, the voice changed everything. No doubt Casimir would have kicked himself if he’d realized how counterproductive his words were, but in Maddie’s mind, words meant a rational creature. Skinwalkers and dangerous Kalona could talk, true, but the fact the growler had a voice and a mind meant that the fear of a mindless attack was suddenly gone. With that, the situation became much less dire, the need to flee no longer all-encompassing. With that brief, gravelly statement, fear gave way to something else: curiosity.

She still didn't know exactly where the speaker was, but from his speech she’d been able to place him as somewhere in the nearby trees. Normally, she’d have gone right over to investigate, but he didn't sound like the most social type. Too bad for him!

Staying where she was, she cocked her head in the direction of the trees and responded in her normal, perky tone. “Well, where is ‘here’, exactly? Because if you mean solid ground, I’m sorry but I’m staying right where I am. If you mean in the trees with you, I wasn't thinking of going that way; it’s a bit shadowy and dark in there, and who wants to be surrounded by dark all the time? There’s enough of that in the night without mucking up the day with it as well, I’d say.” Pleased with her logic, she gave the unseen voice an emphatic nod, then continued. “And if you mean out in the bog, I don’t think I’m going that way anyway, so the welcome or lack thereof is probably moot, don’t you think?”

Uta

 

[Uta]

Cajmera

She wasn’t leaving, she wasn’t leaving, she wasn’t leaving, she wasn’t leaving. The stallion had been so sure that his threat would have worked! The swamp was no place for any soquili to lurk save those that knew its paths and those that the rest of the world unwelcomed. Granted, his exile to the swamps had been self-proposed, and he did visit his family near the ocean from time to time. . . but mostly, Casimir felt comfort by being alone. He didn’t need to risk judgment, didn’t need to be stared at, gaped at, or poked at by any overly curious normal. He knew he was a bit of a mess, and he wasn’t about ready to go be social. The world had told him where he belonged, and that was in the swamp. Besides, the swamp was high in foods he could eat and catch easily with his . . . semi-stuck jaws. He’d tried to cute the chords, but it physically hurt to do so. No. His face was stuck, and that meant an eternity slurping down bugs, little bird, and lizards.

All he wanted to do was go home. . . but he couldn’t. Not with this mare standing between him and his safe abode. Additionally, her arguments (while perhaps over analyzed) were . . . valid. Sort of. Kind of. If a bit insulting. . .and that only made him even more irritable. His tail swished behind him, and while he knew he should be polite, he also knew he wasn’t at his parents’ home! This was his home, and he could be as crabby as he wanted! Nobody could tell him what to do here. So it was, he resumed his growl, this time with more fervor, and glared harder . . . not that she could tell. “You’re not welcome here, or there, or anywhere! Just . . . Just leave already, all right!?” Ha. He told her. “Don’t make me come out and tell you off face to face. You’re not going to like it,” he threatened again. Not because he’d actually harm her, but because he was pretty sure she’d flip out if she saw the young treeback. He had a face only a mother could love, and that was the truth, at least as far as he figured. Still, he didn’t really like being mean, but it was better this way. The sooner she was gone, the sooner he could go home, and return back to his beloved little swamp. “Just scram. You’re in my way.” There. Maybe she could be reasoned with to leave. . . And no, given this was his home, he wasn’t going to take the time to slink off and wait for her to leave. Nope. He was here. She shouldn’t be here – what mare traveled to a swamp!? – and so it was her time to just go back to wherever she came from and this miserable experience could be over.

A small part of Casimir inwardly worried – what would he do if she didn’t listen?

 

[Cajmera]

The voice was sure not helping her out, Maddie thought with a rueful shake of her head. Had the voice been inclined to be helpful, it would have 'friendlied up,' stopped growling, acknowledged the validity of her arguments. Best case scenario, the speaker himself might even have come out to talk, or play, or do SOMETHING of interest. She'd only been here for a short time, and she was already feeling bored and lonely, a combination she never liked to experience. Even a formerly disembodied Voice of Hostility would be an improvement over the status quo.

But no, the Voice, or rather the Speaker to Whom the Voice Belonged, didn't want to cut her any slack. Talk about an unfriendly sort, she thought sadly. Poor Voice, he must be a very lonely sort of fellow if all he did was chase people away. Though she supposed it was possible he had a family around that he was trying to protect; while she was obviously no threat, he might not be able to tell that from wherever he was. Well. Fine then, she would cut him some slack. But she was NOT going to simply slink away, even if he WAS protecting something. She wasn't hurting anybody or anything where she was standing, so she felt no qualms about continuing to stand there.

"Well, I'm sorry you're so grumpy, Mr. Voice, but I can't be THAT much in your way when it's open ground around me in both directions. If you want to go into the swamp, just go around me; I know I'm not the tiniest of mares, but I'm no giant either," she added with a flick of her tail. "And if I'm not welcome anywhere, as you so nicely put it, don't you think I'm just as well off staying here where I already am than travelling somewhere else where, according to you, I would also be unwelcome?"

He might not be giving her something physical to do, but at least talking to him was interesting! He might not think so; given his grouchy tone, she was pretty sure he as finding this infuriating. But maybe he would come around; she knew she was a nice Soquili, so it was an obvious fact (to her) that given enough of an opportunity, her niceness would impress itself on the Voice. Or so she hoped. "And why do you have to come out here only to tell me off, anyway? Can't you just come out and we try our hooves at having a simple, pleasant conversation? You never know, it might be fun!"

Having no idea what to expect from the Voice in terms of looks, Maddie nevertheless felt that social interaction was improved by body language and other physical elements. She had seen a lot of different Soquili types, so whatever he was, she was sure she would be fine with him. Though he did sound rather as though he thought the opposite; maybe he was really big! Or really spiky, or had giant horns, or was just sensitive about being pink. Who knew? She didn't, and she wouldn't until she saw him. And she wasn't planning on going anywhere, so theoretically that meant she'd have the chance!

Uta

 

[Uta]

Cajmera

Casimir almost gave a whine in despair. This mare wasn't acting like the (rare) other mares he'd met! She was digging her hooves in, was arguing with him, and he even had on the scariest voice he could muster! This wasn't how things were supposed to go. He had . . . he had asked her to leave! Ok, maybe his asking didn't fall under polite terms, but shouldn't she have listened? She was trespassing, and he . . . he just knew that if he had to stomp on out, she'd either scream, or sneer, or laugh, or make some comment about his ugly face. He'd heard enough enough of such things to make him entirely leery about finding company, and had resigned himself at a young (and somewhat melodramatic) age, to live out the rest of his days alone, in a swamp. Forever.

Huff.

Casimir couldn't quite do that with some mare hanging around, now, could he?

So it was the stallion just glowered, hoping that the weight of his glare might be enough to remove her. Her arguments were damn obnoxious in that she was (once again) mostly right, and he knew he was being a stubborn jerk. His grandpa would rip him to pieces, and his mother would be appalled, at his lack of gentlemanly behavior. And yet... He was a monster. Sure, they all had their own differences, but Casimir felt as if he were nothing but a true freak. His brother at least had a tail monster, just like his uncle and his mother's dragon mane; his sister looked just like their mother in coloration. But Casimir turned out green, and with some sort of tree; sometimes they said he was like his uncle Arcadius, but that didn't make him feel better given Arcadius was all but gone!

Maybe he should be gone, too.

But he couldn't be, not with some mare trying to get him to come out nad converse. "You could at least go and be unwelcome not directly on my land," he huffed, irritated, and unsure how he was supposed to handle this situation. He could stay and fight with her, which could last for hours; he could retreat and leave her alone and go find himself somewhere else to settle, but his pride didn't like that idea; he could also just give her what she wanted and step out and scare her off.

Well.

FINE THEN.

The stallion gave another irritable snarl and tried to find courage. "Fine then," he finally sulked, pushing his way out of his hiding spot with as much bravery he could muster. He was a tangled mess of leaves, mud, and blood from his earlier meal; he was quite a large stallion, and looked well like some sort of swamp beast. His tail flicked irritably behind him, and he tried to look fierce. All he was waiting now was the scream. "Happy now?" He sneered, his body quivering in what might have been presumed anger, but in reality, was fear.
 

[Cajmera]

When the Voice didn't say anything for a few long moments, Maddie started to feel hopeful. Clearly, the amazing power of her completely rational arguments had won the day; no doubt the silence was because the Speaker to Whom the Voice Belonged was processing those arguments, weighing his options, and deciding that the best course of action was to stop being a grumpy butt, come up and talk to her. Any other course was simply ridiculous, and she was fully confident in the Speaker to understand when he was beaten.

So she waited out the silence with a bright, beaming smile, one that only faltered the tiniest bit at his barked assertion that she was being unwelcome on his land. Except hadn't he said earlier than she was in the way of his land? Either he'd been lying earlier, or he was lying now in an attempt to drive her away. Well, just because it was adjacent to his land didn't mean she couldn't stand on it, and besides, it was a very small spot! She was just about to tell him so when he suddenly said 'Fine then" and he himself came rustling out of the leaves.

Understandably, Maddie's eyes became large and round as she took in the stallion now standing before her. While she was definitely not a child, there were still many things in the world she'd never seen before; Soquili like the Speaker were definitely included in that number. At first, she thought he was carrying a shrub with him in an attempt to hide, but after a careful reassessment, she came to the startling conclusion that no, he WAS the shrub! Or at least parts of him were; he definitely had leaves on his head, and branches in his mane, and a real, honest to goodness little tree on his back! That, mixed with the additional leaves, mud, dark red smears she didn't want to analyze further, beaky muzzle, and little spines on his face definitely made for a very, VERY novel picture.

However, Maddie had been raised not to judge. Honestly, his unusual looks were nothing compared to the grouchiness of his Voice While Disembodied; she would take his appearing as a good thing, not something to regret. And besides, novelty meant she shouldn't be bored anytime soon!

Finishing her once over of the stallion, she blinked at him once more, then said in her frankest way, "You know, I bet you'd be a lot less grouchy if you just had a proper bath."

Uta

 

[Uta]

Cajmera

Casimir continued to glare down at the mare, mentally preparing himself for the laughter, the sneers, the judgment that was certain to follow. He knew it wasn't exactly in his family's nature to be so defensive . . .but then, nobody in his family was a tree. His father certainly had cacti spikes, and mutations, and his mother had a dragon in her hair. . . but Cas was practically a living shrub, with a sewn up mouth, and a plant that had taken root on his back. He didn't belong down by the beach, where the seawater burned, and killed the leaves in his hair, and the foliage on his back. Even his own spikes were wooden. . . .

No. Casimir simply didn't fare well down by the beaches where the rest of his family resided. He stopped by on occasion, but had taken resident in the farther marshes and swamps. That was where he belonged. Not many soquili visited, and even less stayed long once they arrived. It was better for everyone, really . . . but here was this mare, refusing to budge.

Huff. Stubborn lady. . .

Still, though her eyes went wide, she didn't scream and flee. She stood her ground, and the only thing she commented on was his need for a bath. He almost bristled, despite it be being the truth, and instead gave an irritated swish of his tail. "There's no point in taking a proper bath when you live in a swamp," he countered. His voice was rough from lack of use, but he wasn't quite able to bring himself to snark and snarl now that he was face-to-face. It was one thing to do it to try to scare off an outsider before he'd been seen, but now that they were standing together, it was a lot more difficult to bark at the mare.

So instead, he stood there, feeling awkward and vulnerable and judged. If only he'd been born less like a shrub and more like an actual soquili. "So what are you doing at the swamp? Nobody comes here unless they're lost or crazy." And given Cas wasn't lost, he knew very well which category he fell under.