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 Posted: Fri Feb 12, 2016 8:01 pm
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Posted: Fri Feb 12, 2016 8:21 pm
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A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OFCREATION!
Kin Name: Blue Blood
Drabble: To create was difficult in any term. Creation was something that required thought and skill. It was about making something change, or bringing forth something from nothing. Creation was an abstract concept, one that you couldn't bet on because frankly, you never knew what might happen and what might work or not. So why was it that the thought of creating tiny little version of himself hold such an appeal? Tail flicking back and forth, Blue Blood was left with a rather philosophical set of questions. He certainly enjoyed the company of various does but had never really spent any great deal of time with them after fathering a few with them.
As far as being a parent, he was just as equally terrible, hardly taking any role in his offspring's lives and rather avoiding them altogether. Advice, fatherly help- he didn't really give it unless they came seeking it, and even then he tended to shy away from it. So why then did he like the idea of creating children? of passing on his genes? He wasn't quite sure he knew the answer. more, he almost wondered if it mattered. At the end of the day he and a doe had a good time, and maybe a few eggs would happen. With a sigh the buck closed his eyes.
He'd need to sleep on it.
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Posted: Fri Feb 12, 2016 9:05 pm
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A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF OCEAN!
Kin Name: Dainty Paw
Drabble:
Dainty Paw breathed in the air slowly, enjoying the salty hints that lingered in it. It was such an odd, but delicious scent! He was used to the fresh but tasteless airs of his home, but the acha had taken a trip away from his family to do some thinking and reflecting. He figured that would be done best in a territory unfamiliar to himself. He found it to be surprisingly tranquil… Gazing upon the ocean, which stretched beyond what his eyes could see, he could not help but admire its expansiveness. It was something that was unknown and new to him, and it was breathtaking to the young babbin.
Stretching his long limbs, he let out a content sigh. Dainty Paw had decided he enjoyed the ocean—how it twinkled in the light, how its colors shifted from different blues and grays, how it seemed larger than the land he lived on—and thus he would savor every moment he spent, so we could reflect upon his adventures to his family when he returned to them. Something about being able to stroll up and down the sands that lined the waters, how the water reached up and down, encircling his small hooves before retreating back to safety, as if beckoning him to come closer… It was all just so… Perfect. A nice alternative from his home.
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Posted: Fri Feb 12, 2016 9:19 pm
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A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF TURTLE!
Kin Name: Dainty Paw
Drabble:
He had been wandering the lands, taking in the new and alien things he was not used to, when he came across a strange animal nestled in some shallow water. Approaching it slowly, the turtle seemed to mirror him by tilting its head just as slow as Dainty Paw moved, just as curious of the acha as the acha was of it.
Getting close enough, he stood over the odd creature and peered at it with curious eyes. He had never before seen such a delightfully quirky creature. It had a leathery texture and sported four legs and a head that popped out of…something. Observing it closely, he noted the odd shell hosted on its back. Was it fragile or susceptible to injury? Dainty Paw wanted to raise a leg and prod it, but decided against it. Perhaps it would not be fond of such an act. Or… what if the shell was just a trick – what if the creature would launch out some dangerous thing from it. Cooing softly at the turtle to get a reaction from it, he was surprised to see it withdraw into the shell. Was it scared or being defensive? He scrutinized it, but to no avail; the creature refused to leave its shell.
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Posted: Fri Feb 12, 2016 9:29 pm
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A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF DRAGON!
Kin Name:Lonely Altar
Drabble: "Augh." Lonely Altar looked around for the tiny flying menace but was having no such luck. All morning, he'd been gathering nuts. Sorting them into neat little piles with the intent to roast them and have a tasty treat for that day's meal. But no, his plans never were allowed to go just as planned./ No, something had to muck it up. In this case, a tiny dragon had come by and gone ruined everything, shoving the nuts INTO the fire rather than leave them on the rock to roast evenly and get pulled when ready.
Lunch was so easily ruined just because of a wild little dragon and Lonely Altar not keeping an eye on his nuts. Chasing after the dragon, thinking at least maybe he might have a snack also proved to be a waste of time as it were, seeing as now he was lost in the swamp and not a single dragon in sight.
"Why does everything get ruined?" He whined into the open air.
"Why can't just once, things go right?" He almost felt like going to whimper at a sibling, mooch food off of them.
"All I wanted was some roasted nuts." The buck moaned in sadness, just wondering why dragons had to be such dicks.
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Posted: Fri Feb 12, 2016 11:54 pm
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A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF BEAUTY!
beauty | chicken | creation | dragon | firewater | magic | monster | mushroom | ocean | running | smash | turtle
Kin Name: Streams of Silver
Drabble: Dainty hooves pick along dry rocks, seeking to find a way from the clean springwater the doe just recently washed herself in to the dry and sturdy path she took to get there. It's a thing of discipline, really, something that she puts priority when she can. She disdains being forced to dirty herself, loathes the touch of mud and grime against her gleaming hide. He's beautiful, and she wants to be beautiful for him.
It's strange. He values her company, of course, and her beauty– truly, the two of them are a matched pair together. But sometimes, he seems disappointed in her, and she can't be entirely certain why. The time they spend together is lovely, and she enjoys the quiet walks and long conversations. Still, she is unused to keeping company this long, and it strains her to have to take care to present herself agreeably to him.
-~-
It's frustrating. She feels so awkward around him, wants nothing more but to impress him with her grace, her skill, her elegance, but... sometimes, when he laughs– especially when it's at some fault of hers, some mistake or irritation– she feels as if his laughter is directed at her and only her. A painful feeling that swells in her body and reaches for escape, but finds nowhere to be shed. She is tiring of things, this shallowness, this charade.
It isn't his fault. It was hers in the first place, to pursue him on such shallow merits, and to base a relationship on other things with such a similar lack of depth. She has nobody to blame but herself. She feels tied down, restricted, and it's a fault of only hers. She starts giving him sharp words, cutting trails harder to keep up with, giving him subtle signals of his unwelcomeness by her side. He will get the message, in time.
It aches, to see him hurt by this. It's a forlornness that she wishes she could soothe, but she isn't willing to tolerate this farce any longer. Still, he insists on staying about, tries to make good on the relationship they've forged, especially given the foals he suspects her to carry. He accepts her harshness, her fierce demeanor, but she knows it not to be for her.
Of course, he wouldn't let her leave with his foals. She can hardly blame him, though she bristles at the idea that his cosseting and compliments may be because he expected some sort of irrationality from her. How often has he done this before? How many does has he followed? She can't spurn him, and at times she feels so tempted to give into his kindnesses.
She is only a doe, and this has been terribly stressful.
-~-
He has depths. Beyond simple compliments, he has wit and charm. Beyond his cosseting is an eagerness to please which she finds terribly hard to disagree with. He is patient, and gentle, and accepting of her– and that is something she has seldom had the good fortune to experience. He makes her feel like her beauty is something that goes beyond how she looks.
And when she eventually lays the sacs that will develop their foals, she finally understands how he could accept her so wholly.
She'll make it up to him. Slowly, by hoofbeats, until he can't possibly miss the beauty in the parts of him that make him feel self-conscious. Their foals for want for no love, grow up safe, cared for, and taught acceptance of– more than just others– of onesself. She will take that message, and share it in little ways, with words and shared moments and long conversations about philosophy, what beauty really is.
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Posted: Sat Feb 13, 2016 12:07 am
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A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF CHICKENS!
beauty | chicken | creation | dragon | firewater | magic | monster | mushroom | ocean | running | smash | turtle
Kin Name: As Bright as Can Be
Drabble: They're simply beautiful– no other word would suffice to describe them. Covered with downy, perfect plumage, with soft, pleasant clucks making the bulk of their talking. Small, adorably undersized wings– ones that remind him of his adoptive sister's mate, in their pleasing uselessness. Adorable legs to walk on, ones that allow them a deceptive amount of agility, presumably because of their lack of flight. They can swim, if pressed, too, the brilliant creatures! Their eyes, beady and intelligent, their mannerisms friendly and docile, and oh, the most wondrous thing about them is their eggs.
Small, with sturdy shells and pleasant yolks, that can be heated to change into a strange delicacy, or combined with pigments to fix them without muddying the colour, like with clay, or making them too thin to do anything other than dye or tint, like with water. Laid every few days– some of their more enterprising and productive females producing them in lockstep with the coming of predawn, more reliably than the appearance of the moon, who tires monthly of gracing the swamp and refuses to share her countenance on fickle days. Once they grow old and feeble, even then, they still have a use.
Their meat is reputably quite succulent and , their males' calls shrill and bracing at the dawn, alerting the songbirds to truly begin their daily serenades to the MotherFather. And the feathers they molt– oh, how perfect they would be for his arrangements.
Truly, they are creatures of grace, dignity, charisma and appeal.
He simply must have one of his own.
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Posted: Sat Feb 13, 2016 12:15 am
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A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF CREATION!
beauty | chicken | creation | dragon | firewater | magic | monster | mushroom | ocean | running | smash | turtle
Kin Name: Sully
Drabble: Foals. Small, bumbling, stumbling things, ungainly and yet beloved and protected by all that encounter them. They are helpless, they are blind, wordless and groping meaninglessly at the world around them– but they are fascinating. It's a wonder, that something that will turn into a person some day can start with such a simple, irreverent action as a lapse of consideration, an ingested mushroom, an evening of loneliness. And it's even more amazing that they can survive at all, without being shepherded and protected by others more capable than them.
How the MotherFather ever let such a flawed design be that which gave them life is beyond the doe. The Totomas' foals, at least, are born capable of running shortly after birth, with eyes open and a capacity that begins to approach the will to live they were cursed with. And how strange that they trust so easily, so instinctively.
She noses her nephew beside her, sniffing at him and lapping against his scalp, bidding him wordlessly to curl against her more tightly. She enjoys it– the feeling of power she gets by helping protect him– the knowledge that she could snuff his life out in an instant, but that he needs her so deeply, that it wouldn't occur to him to not let her approach, and care for him.
She will give these foals guidance, perhaps. Or, perhaps better, she will look for a buck of her own, so that she may play a part in this game of creation, of ultimate power over other lives, playing the part of a shallow echo of the MotherFather themself.
After all, wouldn't that participation make this trust, this intimacy, all the more enjoyable?
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Posted: Sat Feb 13, 2016 12:24 am
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A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF DRAGONS!
beauty | chicken | creation | dragon | firewater | magic | monster | mushroom | ocean | running | smash | turtle
Kin Name: Venturous
Drabble: Dragons. Scale-covered enigmas that elude definition by will of simply being. They are neither fish nor fowl, nor simple beasts– the fey ones can swim and catch fish, the firebreathers dig burrows and ambush prey. Both eat certain plants, and crave stones, and share the characteristics of so many other animals. Lizards or Salamanders, they be most like, with one caste taking on the traits of insects, with diaphanous wings and terribly sensitive antennae that allow them to navigate far better in the dark than their paradoxically more batlike cousins. Those with the leathery wings and the fire in their breath, proud and prone to vying for positions of prowess in their flocks, whereas the insects engage in communal grooming and act far more like some sort of hive, even coordinating to hunt the insects they crave to eat most.
Yet, even with their differences, they are similar. Their behaviours and attitudes are different from each others', but they are no more different than, say, the Acha and the Zikwa, with one being adapted to sun and fire and the other to still and damp and darkness.
Still, do both not love company, have senses of family? They do, and with effort and time, perhaps the doe can one day find a way to reconcile their disparate personalities.
One day, maybe.
In time.
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Posted: Sat Feb 13, 2016 12:34 am
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A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF FIREWATER!
beauty | chicken | creation | dragon | firewater | magic | monster | mushroom | ocean | running | smash | turtle
Kin Name: Hedonist
Drabble: Fruit, barks, plants, honey. Mashed up, combined with clean spring water and carefully exposed to a certain... something... that the kin have learned to find. An invisible force that harnesses the powers of death and decomposition, and belays the onset of sickness in favour of something truly wonderful. It burns the tongue, sliding off of it just like water but leaving him feeling almost parched, if it weren't for the wonderful, cloying sweetness, the grit and pulp that can't be separated from this stuff.
It's truly wonderful stuff, this is. Clouds the judgment and buoys the spirits, with a taste like fire but a thinness like not seen in the cactus-nectars carefully fermented at home. This stuff is far more difficult to create, far more temperamental and much, much stronger, stuff that makes him laugh and tremble and crane for another taste, another sip, another wonderful lapse of judgment that teaches him more about the world and allows him to live through the eyes of a colt again.
It makes his mind grasp and reach and fumble for things previously thought to be obvious and immutable, exposing them to further thought. It makes him laugh, and cry, and feel, and it helps him to ignore the pain from the price he paid for forsaking the sands of his birthplace.
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Posted: Sat Feb 13, 2016 12:43 am
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Posted: Sat Feb 13, 2016 12:56 am
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A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF MONSTERS!
Kin Name: Blood of Mine
Drabble: Blood of Mine knew the swamp better than most. She knew it's twists and turns, the well-worn paths and the hardly visited corners, the best places to find mint, lavender, belladonna -- almost any herb for almost any ailment. She had learned not only the lay of the land, but the character of its inhabitants quite well in discovering what they needed and how to treat it. She had heard all manner of requests, from a kimeti needing a way to sooth a cough, a zikwa hoping for help with headaches, and even an acha looking for something to relax them and keep their mind at ease after finding their new home.
There was nothing she hadn’t heard -- kin needing help themselves, wanting to help others, hoping for a good luck charm -- or even, on the unfortunate side, those who wanted to do others harm, looking for a way to curse those who hurt them, asking for help carrying out the revenge they decided was due. For every few kin asking after some peppermint to soothe a stomach in turmoil, at least one would venture to Blood’s home in the swamp to ask, rather overtly or somewhat cautiously, after an herb that ravage the same system. For every kin hoping to calm anxious heartbeats, it seemed there was always another contemplating how to quell another sturdy heartbeat completely -- whether they eventually came to her about it or not.
Blood of Mine loved what she did; she lived to help her fellow swamp-dwellers, and she enjoyed learning about them all, and the many ways she and the swamp’s plants could help them. Still, her reputation brought all sorts to her, and eventually she could no longer deny that while many of the tall tales she’d heard as a child were nothing more than myth, sometimes monsters did exist, and they closer than any would care to admit.
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Posted: Sat Feb 13, 2016 6:16 am
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A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF TURTLE!
Kin Name: Hemlock
Drabble: Turtles roamed the swamp but they were tiny little things. No larger than a colt or filly, and just as clumsy and gravity defying in their bumbling arounds. And yet it was on her latest island that she encountered a most peculiar turtle. She wrote it off as a byproduct of an overactive imagination, but the currents moved faster on this island, and their patterns were most interesting depending on which section of the island she was. It was then she realized, amid her wanderlust fueled traipsing around, that the island was on the back of a live turtle. Its patterns erratic and the whim of a sentient being. She watched it open its mighty, giant maw and water sluice through the curvaceous caverns of its mouth. For all her spirit, Hemlock wasn't curious enough for that adventure down its dark, murky maw. With nary wisdom or foresight, Hemlock and her canine companions roamed with the turtle to see the outskirts of the swamp for a few seasons. What they discovered made for remarkable reconnaissance work if they were into that kind of thing and belonged to a swamp. For all other purpose and intentions, they had a delightful time and Hemlock looked on with a future of turtles.
A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF OCEAN!
Kin Name: Hemlock
Drabble: After disembarking the traveling turtle island unceremoniously, Hemlock and her canine friends found themselves in a pickle. The abrupt change in plans occurred when the turtle island unilaterally decided it was time to dive deep. Luckily, before exhaustion reared its head, a floating castoff branch of unknown foliage drifted by. They found their new island and another round of adventures began.
It was here they encountered creatures they had no names or stories for, and for a select few they found speech failed them. In awe and majesty of the ocean, Hemlock and her canines experienced great highs and grew lows like the waves that buffeted them. Time at sea was much shorter in duration than their time aboard the turtle island. They were able to scurry like small rats and grab into knapsacks enough food when they saw the horizon getting closer and closer. They saw their future in the disappearing topography and braced for the worst. They were together and while the days were warm, surprisingly the sunless night made for not so cold waters. For the four footed, it was an idyllic pace, but after a while food ran out and swimming no longer seemed like a fun pasttime. It was there they came across the next chapter of their adventures.
A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF CHICKENS!
Kin Name: Hemlock
Drabble:Hemlock thought only fondly of a time she unwittingly ventured into a tribe's territory and saw squawking birds that could not fly. They were loud and littered the ground with their feathers, but yielded interestingly colored eggs. None were quite as uniform as the other in either shape, size or design. Furthermore there were some with large crowns of feathers and stalked the area in provoking dances. Hemlock was delighted. She and her merry crew and canine misfits chased them around their little enclosures, playfully snapping their jaws or engaging in a game of chase. She lost track of time as did her fine companions. And then when the sun was sinking down to the horizon, the feathery crested ones let out the most piercing and howling of shrieks. Message received, Hemlock and her crew left the noisy offenders and pierced the foggy haze that was encroaching in the area. But not without a few souvenirs. Pocky made off with a handful of feathers and glancing back at an irate, half bald chicken, it was not offered freely. Quick like lightning they pranced off for their next adventure. If Hemlock were clever enough, she would have known about the wondrous nutrients to be had with the eggs each chicken provided.
A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF MAGIC!
Kin Name: Silhouette
Drabble: Magic was in the air, or at leas that's what Silhouette claimed as she climbed the walls of the cave in search of the glowing beetles. They were the tastiest and best, but also highly elusive and lived only in the highest and most dangerous of cave crags. But of course, the more exclusive something was, the better it was. Silhouette was a hype beast and only the best of pursuits could satisfy her undying need for more, better, and brighter. She was missing something, but lacked the articulation and self-awareness to put into words and actions. So she attributed, not blamed, it on magic. Magic was the intangible desire that brought her to death defying acts of stupidity. And here she was, climbing with each of her limbs, mouth, teeth and a lick of determination that was at times frightening. Finally, she crested to the top and peered on the ledge she first spied the glint of delicious beetle. She found something much different. A cluster of crystals that twinkled in and out. "Magic", she exhaled to herself quietly. Satisfied, she grabbed a few, tossed them over her head into the broadleaf that was tied around, and began her slow, tortuous descent.
A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF CREATION!
Kin Name: Silhouette
Drabble: Silhouette was a hype beast. Each kin had his or her own creation story, but such a voracious nature demanded only the best when it came to life. "I have the simplest of tastes, I like the best of everything." She had heard it from some wandering kin and from that pivotal moment in time, she knew with stunning clarity that her hunger had been perfectly expressed into words. Silhouette wasn't very articulate, but she made up for it with much gusto, glee and fun. And so when asked what her version was, she expressed it in a battlefield of Celestial dragons. Every cool story had dragons. And these dragons were after the ultimate hoard of gold which they thought was the sun. So they raced like two jealous lovers and the blue one arrived a half second sooner than the red one. But alas, the blue dragon was not fast enough to warn the red of the sun's firey surface. Together they burned, but as great beings of magic, their ashes landed back down to form the swamp, waters and outlying areas. Larger clumps formed kin from kimeti, kiokote, acha, zikwa and totoma. But there were some scales that fell, too, and what those became, the swamp forgot long ago in the mists of time.
A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF DRAGONS!
Kin Name: Silhouette
Drabble: Silhouette continued on from her last creation story. It was pure speculation. The falling scales that escaped the conflagration of the sun were scarce in number, but no less brilliant. The first kimeti, kiokote, acha, totoma and zikwa were isolations by default. They had not explored the swamp or strayed far from their birthplace. Language and communication were in its rudimentary stages, but the brave explorers that did came back with their own scales. And through some miracle and ritual that each group claimed was best, smaller dragons were born. Some were frilled wings while others had leathery ones to match the toughest of beast hides. They were clever little beings of flight, and here highly prized. Though not the best of hunters, they were valued. They were small little things more interested in hoarding shiny items or riding atop their chosen beast of burden of the day; usually it was a kin. And yet, curiously enough, they were a silent bunch with much scorn and disdain. They were nocturnal owing to their creation story. And so it was the dragons that pushed Silhouette to the furthest outreaches of the swamp to find her own wild dragon, be it frilly or leather winged. It was more out of curiosity than desire for kinship.
A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF MUSHROOM!
Kin Name: Shank
Drabble: Shank had birds, a lot of them- fat ones, skinny birds, loud, noisy, some that could fly and others that were glorified feather dusters to clean the caves. They were all black for the most part. She even donned a wing on her flank. And it was one of these feathered brain idiots that brought Shank a mushroom. They were foragers by nature and coupled with Shank's obsession with birds, birdwatching and everything about birds, she often forgot to eat. Birds on the hand were much simpler creatures and made sure their larger bird friend was well fed with a much varied diet. It took a long time to break them of their habit of feeding her worms. No thank you. And so today it was mushrooms. Mushrooms and a sprig of mint and some found berries of various colors and plumpness. The shrooms were gilled and smelled of earth funkiness. The bit into one and after a moment of indecision, devoured the rest in one fell swoop, including the mint for brightness and berries for velvety tartness. It was not until later one in the day that she upended all of her contents, laid down to rest, and closed her eyes hoping for the visions to end. Euphoria came swiftly after.
A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF FIREWATER!
Kin Name: Shank
Drabble: Her experience with the mushrooms reminded her a lot of the first time she tried firewater at a festival, the Fire one in Autumn of course. It was clear and came in a turtle shell. She should have known why only kin lined up and not their familiars or pets, and why stumbling affected them all. Firewater was not a euphemism. The burn was very real and she felt it course through her system with blinding clarity. It seared her insides and sat heavy in her belly low and warm. She thought she was dying until the side effects were felt. She felt like she was on fire, but that she could accomplish anything. Shank's day got a little brighter, the sun was stronger and the wind was a loving caress. There was nothing she could not do. She thought she could fly and for her troubles, had a ghastly fall. It was a good thing she could not feel it or her limbs at the moment. The next day she didn't fare as well, and as her head felt like it was full of murky swamp water, and the throbbing of her limbs would not dissipate. Her left forearm was an injured wing and she had to hobble her way for the better part of the season. Lesson learned.
A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF SMASH!
Kin Name: Shank
Drabble: Turns out her injured ring was more of a broken bone. It had been smashed to pieces. Shank glared at her birds half heartedly. She was at fault. She tried to fly and with the firewater addling her bread, she thought she could and could have sworn her birds cheered her on in agreement. Firewater was a hell of a drug, but smashed bone particles were not fun. She wanted to smash her own skull in to numb the pain, anything to make it stop. She thought to smash her own black birds, but regret was a powerful monster. Filled with self shame, she decided to make her own version of firewater. Smaller amounts would be a tonic to heal her right? With her willing compatriots, she embarked on a journey to forage for more berries and bramble. Eventually they had enough and she didn't look too closely on to how the bloody turtleshell was acquired, but that was all water under the bridge. She submerged the turtleshell deeper into the water to collect the liquids for her new tonic. Adding in the berries, she waited for them to ferment. And in time she had her own firewater smash juice. Smashing her brain away metaphysically, they found their own brand of smashign fun.
A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF MONSTER!
Kin Name: Spiderhole
Drabble: Despite her naming dream, Spiderhole, was terrified at spiders and it unnecessarily many legs. So it did not bode well when she encountered a spider monster that talked and laughed at her. Because nothing defines a badass like its ability to laugh in the face of a would be opponent. It was simple enough. It had what she wanted and to get to it, she needed to defeat the boss of a beast, the Giant Spider. But facing a laughing spider with its gaping, cackling maw is what nightmares are made of. And then there was the sticky web that encroached her limbs. And murdered her hair. It was an awful affair and something she didn't want to think about, especially what it was that was in her hair.
Luckily enough, salvation came in an unlikely form. A slinky doe of tree bark slunk from the shadows and with it an incredibly bizarre and rare fire salamander of blue. Burned her monster right up and when the deed was done, the slipped back into the shadows, leaving a stunned Spiderhole choking on monster and disbelief. She dragged herself to the intendded prize and peered into the direction the unlikely duo left. She would find them.
A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF RUNNING!
Kin Name: Spiderhole
Drabble: Spiderhole ran after the curly tailed brown doe and the flaming salamander. She ran into the direction that seemed most likely to find them. She ran through the rain and did not once stop for shelter, hoping they did the same. The hero doe seemed unflappable and economical in the precise attacks she doled out onto the large Spider monster. Spiderhole ran through the small babbling stream and tried her best not to sink forther, trip or swim in the deeper sections. There was as much running as there was strategic hopping. Spiderhole was of average athletic ability but she was full of spirit and admiration plus equal weight of indebtness she felt for the heroic act. Spiderhole ran for a spell and hoped lady uck was on her side for she wasn't exactly sure where the doe and salamander lived. She ran and ran some more and got a few scraps along the way. But fortune favored the bold and her dark pelt hid the more grisly of cuts. Perks of bleeding during the rain was that she got a free bath for her troubles. Spiderhole continued running and slept at night for brief periods when the lack of moon worked with her exhaustion and need for self preservation.
A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF BEAUTY!
Kin Name: Spiderhole
Drabble: Spiderhole ran a ridiculous amount before she stumbled upon the great beauty that was the brown hero and her sidekick salamander. As a recap, Spiderhole wanted an item but said item was protected by a giant Spider and despite her naming dream, Spiderhole was frightened of spiders, especially large, mocking a*****e spiders. When she found the doe she was seeking, Spiderhole was a hot mess of tangles, mud, blood and stinking sweat, the difference between the two serving only to highlight the beauty that was the other doe. Her name was River-Swollen and that curly tail twitched with wry amusement at the sudden appearance of the doe. The salamander was unimpressed. Spiderhole stammered and all of a sudden came alight. She stumbled out a mangled "Thank you" and the other doe cocked her tail in a definitive stance and replied appropriately. They stared at each other more and as if each word was guarded like gold, they started and engaged in a conversation that was neither here nor there, but underlying it was a feeling of desire to hear more from the other. Kinship souls, they were brought together by hokey fate and friendship was sealed in the stars that day. Spiderhole and River-Swollen became great friends, one an amazing beauty and the other steadfast like the river.
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Posted: Sat Feb 13, 2016 8:22 am
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A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF MAGIC!
Kin Name: Born Again
Drabble:
Some kin believe in magic (fire breathing, dragons, pixies and fairies and all other manner of things) and others don’t. For Born Again, magic is everywhere -- in the little things, as well as the big (though these events are much less common). Not so much the sort that comes with flashes and booms and turning handsome bucks into frogs, and the like, but magic all the same.
He sees it every day as he walks the borders of the White Crane Tree Tribe, keeping those inside safe from outside dangers. The distances kin have traveled to get to them for sanctuary, the trials they’ve been through and survived and are still fighting -- there has to be at least a little bit of magic in all of that, he figures. Not to mention the bravery it takes for many of them to leave the familiarity of the homes they once knew to travel so far. Courage is often not as abundant as some might believe, which is what makes it all the more remarkable when witnessed.
Then too, of course, those who come in so beaten down - spiritually, emotionally, mentally, physically - that it’s any wonder they ever made it at all, only to walk out with a smile on their face and a lilt in their step. It makes him thankful all the time that he was born to this place, to these kin who he calls family. Really, there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.
Even the little things that they, as a tribe, take for granted. The safety of their group, the special herbs and healing plants his mother and the others grow and tend to - some species of which can't be found anywhere else. Even the abundance of food they have, here, which weary and ill kin certainly need to regain their strength - as well as the kin like him and his scouts which need fuel to keep up the hard work they do.
Well, and every time an expectant couple stops by to lay their sacs or eggs, knowing they'll be safe until they're ready to move on - because that's what they do.... Trust. To have that kind of trust from perfect strangers, merely because of their reputation for all that they do, it's downright humbling at times.
There have certainly been days where circumstances were less than ideal, because that's life. Born Again knows this perhaps more than most in his tribe. Walking the boarder, he's seen plenty of beauty, of wonder, of things he can't quite explain as the sun begins to set and the shadows are long and strange, and yes - there's certainly a kind of magic in that, too. Things aren't always perfect. Yet... and yet, at the end of the day, he really believes with all of his heart, that there's nowhere else he'd rather be, and nothing else he'd rather be doing, than living here with his tribe, these kin, and doing his best to make life that much better for them all.
Certainly, there’s nothing more magical in all of the swamp than that.
wc: 513
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Posted: Sat Feb 13, 2016 8:29 am
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A DRABBLE ON THE THEME OF CREATION!
Kin Name: Sideshow
Drabble:
Every day is an opportunity. An opportunity for something good, an opportunity for something bad, and an opportunity for the unknown. There is no telling what will happen in any given day, no matter how well one might plan for it or prepare. That’s just the way of fate. Destiny. All that nonsense.
Sideshow knows this, but that doesn’t stop her from hoping that every day will be a good one -- a GREAT one, in fact -- and she does her best to plan for it, to prepare for it. She practices her routines, her lines, her moves. Every day is the chance for another great show, another audience, another high as she takes the stage and wooes them, makes something out of nothing.
Art. Creation. That’s what it comes down to. It’s like having a child, in a way. She spends so much effort building it up, until eventually, one day, all she can do is let it go and hope things go well. There’s always a chance that they won’t, but nothing great was ever made from not trying, and Sideshow doesn’t have it in her not to perform, anyway.
It’s all she knows.
Blood, sweat, and tears. Sometimes literally, sometimes just for show -- but it’s real enough, in the end, when the line between reality and fiction becomes blurred. That’s all she can hope for. To create that reality, to blur those lines.
Her heart pounds as she steps into the circle, but the moment all eyes are on her it’s like drifting on a gentle wave and everything feels perfect.
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