Quote:
If you participated in the Mastermind game by causing the rocks to glow in any way or commenting on someone else's guess at any point during the thread, you dream of a familiar, comforting song, which you haven't heard in a long while. Who - or what - is singing? What does it remind you of? { Source }
The swamp’s humidity greets her like a childhood friend. After the bone dryness of the desert the weight of moisture in the air is a comfort. The heat has sucked the energy from her and she is tired, tired in a way that not even an trek to the ocean can mimic. She makes an effort to get to the soft trampled grasses before she collapses. A sigh of breath signals the close of eyes and she falls over onto her side. It doesn’t take long for sleep to firmly cocoon her, chest rising and falling in a soft rhythm.Breach is the runt of the clutch. A fussy ball of downy pink fur that wails as her siblings’ hunger ravages into the food meant for her. There is a twist in her belly and a throb in her head that makes it impossible to quell the tears that stream endless. She doesn’t remember this. Memories spin until she is sure that this never happened. And yet…
There is something familiar. A voice that can only be her mother’s sings a song she hasn’t heard in a long while. Pain—she wonders for a time if it is loneliness or homesickness—rips harsh within her chest and leaves her gasping for breath. The Ache crushes down upon her lungs and she spasms, withers, against the loudening lullaby. Or is it a dirge?
She drips, slowly, into herself as a foal. The sweet voice of her mother still sings while she is curled against Giveforward’s side. The feeling of belonging, fitting, fills her being. Mother is a softness that she must defend, much like Takeback does, and there has always been a disconnect there. She is not soft, not like Mother, and she knows her biological mother isn’t either.
She doesn’t consider Takeback hard but she is different. She, herself, is harder than soft but she is not the granite she was birthed from. Nor the lamb that has raised her. And yet the song…she has always felt a bond bloom when it is sung. She belongs, in some manner, to these two does. To this family they have borne. Even if she has no idea who or what she is.
Breach nuzzles her nose into Giveforward’s side. Who is she, what is she, roams through her head and she opens her eyes to find age has fallen upon her body. Around her are children and grandchildren. And though she does not know the words, it is she who sings the lullaby. A melody that grows as the sisters, their children, and now her children come together, connect, in a ritual born of contentment. She is one of many.
She is a piece, pieces splintered and fused together, of this family. A seed born from the Motherfather that has yet to have grown. There are fragments that she has yet to discovered, not least of all, the creature in her naming dream. And as the ocean nourishes her, she will grow with this lullaby singing in her blood.
(505)
