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 Posted: Tue Aug 18, 2015 8:35 pm
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Posted: Tue Aug 18, 2015 8:40 pm
Quote:  Rouxe pawed at the floor, her sharp claws digging to find edible roots below. She was far along in her pregnancy now, and if she looked as large as she felt, she would be a whale, barreling through trees as she rolled towards her destination.
Reality was much less vivid than imagination, though it did not change the fact that she fatigued quickly, and was rendered unable to hunt for herself. So it was that she found herself in a forest, where the trees were tall and widely spaced, and deer rummaged in the distance, exasperating her with their calm. Light fell to her in shimmering rays, and she would have thought it beautiful were she not so busy combing for food.
Quote:  “My, my, Rouxe,” a stallion called from above. His figure was made an indecipherable silhouette by the sun, but Rouxe recognized the reedy voice as belonging to Kestrel. “I’m disappointed. You’ve grown fat.”
He landed with a needlessly complex and gaudy maneuver that sent the deer sprinting from the fields, avoiding the trees with ease. He puffed his chest when his claws touched the earth, parading himself before her, his feathers splayed and shimmering from their recent grooming. When this gesture was met with only a half-lidded stare, he looked pointedly at her dirtied claws. “What are you up to, my fine old friend?”
Quote: Rouxe sighed at the interruption, a covetous eye following the path of the fleeing deer. They were gone within moments, and she resumed her task. “I’m pregnant, Kes. I cannot hunt, so—” she tore out a clump of tubers, “—I must settle.”
Quote: “My goodness!” Kestrel was upon her in a single bound, a wing stretched to spread across her side. “Is it fatal? Are you dying?” He preened the feathers in her hair to console himself, the motions as small and quick as a sparrow’s.
Quote: “Kestrel—please—you’re smothering me.” Rouxe spread her own wings, forcing him from her side, but her smile betrayed her amusement. “I’m not sick, and I’m not dying. I’m only having children.”
She added the tubers to the pile of roots she’d already collected, the majority of them plucked of their leaves, courtesy of Weed. They were set upon a square of cloth, and she gathered the corners together to make it easy to carry. With the package held securely in her maw, she headed towards a nearby stream.
Quote: “Children?” Rouxe left before Kestrel could say more. He followed in her heels, lifting a protesting Weed by his scarf so that he, too, had something to carry. Assured that she was not facing imminent death, he began a series of loud and enthusiastic humming, leaving his poor charge’s ears tickling from the vibrations. Thankfully, it did not take them long to reach their destination.
“Are they—ow!” He had not bothered to lower Weed to the ground, instead opting to drop the fox without ceremony as soon as he spoke, and received a whap for his trouble. Weed, seeking safety after the excursion, huddled on Rouxe’s back. Rubbing his sore nose, he tried again. “Are they for eating?”
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Posted: Tue Sep 29, 2015 11:55 pm
Quote: Rouxe cuffed him again for the question. Her blows had been soft, however; they were meant to warn, not punish. She knew he’d woken alone in the world, and that it was something that she, having been raised among a bustling herd, could never understand. Although he had told her (in quite pompous and overbearing tones) that he had “civilized himself,” there was still some mix of naivety and the macabre that remained of his former, more feral, life.
“No, Kestrel; they are not for eating,” she said patiently, turning towards the water. A small camp had been at the banks—hers, if her familiarity with the area was anything to go by. Standing at the edge of the stream, she began cleaning the roots. “They are for raising, and training, and nourishing, so that they may grow to become stronger than their predecessors and carry the future forward.”
Quote: Kestrel tugged at the grass beneath his claws, watching her work. “That does not sound very fun,” he finally said. “I cannot see what you’d get out of it.”
Quote: “I get to shape the destiny of the world.” Rouxe went through the roots methodically as she spoke, setting the cleaned ones out to dry. “My influence would be a drop in the ocean, if even that, but it would be something. It would be enough, too, to help my herd, my family.”
Quote: “But the future is far off, my friend.” He took a root and put it into the water. Cleaning food was a new concept to him, however; his claws were inexperienced with the act, and the root was pulled out of his grip, lost beneath the current. Rouxe did not comment.
“I do not think you will live to see the world you work for. Unless children extend your life, of course.” He grabbed another root. “Do they?”
Quote: Rouxe smiled. “I’m afraid not. But I would not have to live forever; I would be content to watch them grow, and overcome my own shortcomings. Even if I did not, knowing that I may not be able to reap the fruits of my labor doesn’t mean it isn’t worth the effort.”
Quote: “Well, it all still seems very silly to me,” he mused. Rouxe was isolated, like himself, but it was self-imposed solitude, a punishment for her failures. It was not the natural way of life for her, as it was to him. He did not see a future, or even much of a past; only himself. The idea of altruism, of helping another at the expense of one’s self, was unsettling to the stallion who had had only himself to rely upon for most of his youth. Aiding someone without receiving direct, personal gain, felt as if he was being cheated.
But if that was true, why did so many partake in the act? He’d witness plenty of benevolence during his quest to integrate himself into society, and knew it was the normal thing to do. Why did he not share the same feeling? Was there something wrong with him? No, surely not!
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