[PRP] water tastes different... [Foxy / Shush]

[Maxx D]

"Oh," Foxy sighed, sitting heavily onto the convenient moss, "it feels like the swamp is so much bigger than I remembered, coming here."

It was like the blind leading the - oh, no, that was bad, and this was far worse. The totoma's lashes flicked up, and she regarded the scenery with some resentment.

"I'm so sorry, sweet girl," she genuinely was and it was audible. "I thought I'd remember my route, but I'm afraid I might only remember that scene, where the chill swept wet into the swamp. It was very distinct." She was quite dismayed when she'd found the swamp could get hotter. And wetter. In the very least, this was prime weather for her, as good as it could get here.

"I suppose it might get a little colder on the way," she said entirely unhelpfully in this weather, almost insistently talking, the other doe's constant silence boring guilt into her mind.  

[Jun D]

Shush could tell, from the sound of her voice, and the thud of limbs, that the doe had stopped. Shush stopped too, stilling near a tree that she could hide behind.

The doe spoke, freely and often, but she did not. There was nothing the doe said that she felt means to reply. There was nothing she could say that could give what she'd meant.

But she did know, and remember, the wet of the Swamp where it began. The wet that he had needed but a night and a day, or a night and a day and a night, to reach, and could not. The taste of wet on her tongue. The sac that she held, so very carefully.

There were no words she could say.

She lowered her head.  

[Maxx D]

She knew not what the doe was thinking, but oh, her lowered little head looked so very sad, perhaps even sadder than usual, and Foxy felt so very bad.

"Come, come," she sprung up, and bodily guided - which is to say, boisterously shouldered - the kiokote over to a stream. "Come, come," she sang, like she would sing to a foal, coddling her. "Time for a drink."

She dipped into the clear water and sipped noisily, making sure she would find it.  

[Jun D]

The doe's loud drinking broke up the quiet babbling of the stream. Shush was not yet thirsty - there were many nights she had drifted many more hours without stopping. But the doe was so kind, and indulged her so. She crept to the edge of the babble and politely took a sip.  

[Maxx D]

"One would think," she paused, "well, I would think that you might be able to get a glimpse of the mountains from anywhere in the swamp with such low lands, but it gets rainy after all..."

She looked out to the distance, biting at her lip.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, forlorn that she'd managed to put a blind doe and herself into the middle of nowhere. "I'm a lousy guide."  

[Jun D]

"We…" Shush began, and hesitated, because it had been so long.

But the doe was so kind, and indulged her so. It was the least she could do.

"...are...farther," she whispered, "than we were…"  

[Maxx D]

She let the soft voice sink into her mind, revelling in the fact that she had spoken at all. A whole phrase! And she sounded so sweet.
For a moment, she wasn't sure whether she was merely being comforted or if it was a factual statement, but seeing the difficulty she went through to communicate that to her, Foxy believed it.

"That's a relief," and so it was - she mindfully did not make a note of her speech, so she would not be self-conscious, "How can you tell, darling? Just give me a brief idea so I can check with you now and again."  

[Jun D]

She hesitated, because it had been so long.

"Water…" she finally said, "tastes different…from the sea…to the mountains."  

[Maxx D]

Once that came from her lips, she bent down to sip again. Foxy couldn't tell really, but she was cognisant of the fact that she had all her senses about her, and this girl lacked one. Assuming she had come from the plains, it must have been quite a feat to make it here by herself.
She wanted to trust her, so she would. She certainly didn't trust herself at this point.

She lapped at it again. Could she taste it warmer, more so than the last stream? Perhaps she could.

"Thank you," she decided upon. "I'll be honest, I can't taste the difference, but I think I will once you indicate there is." And Foxy laughed.

"Let's rest a little more, and we'll get going in a bit."  

[Jun D]

It seemed her answer pleased her, and so it pleased Shush. It was the least she could do. She would follow the scent of soft petals, and drink of the stream, and perhaps – shh, shhh, shh – she could lead her back to the mountains. And, perhaps, she would find the words she needed before then.

Under the cool rays of the moon, Shush followed.

END