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  • Beqanna

    version 22: awakening


    GHAUL -- Year 209


    "(souls are not meant to live more than once — death was not meant to be temporary, and she is so sure that every time her heart starts to beat again that irreversible damage is further inflicted)" -- Anonya, written by Colby

    chronic - any
    The grass tasted incredibly sweet here: here where the sun met the horses' backs and the wind swept through their coarse manes and tails. But for their conscious nature did the occupants of Beqanna want; to any feral thing, this would be a life of luxury. Rolling hills, endless food, water abounding. What tainted these miracles though, really, remained shapeless but all powerful: the true fault laid with Beqanna herself, she being a cruel mother in her own painful consciousness. Greedy, she chose not to suffer alone, to bring others with her into the thing she called Life.

    In that way alone were Gods and mortals alike: uneasy with their interminable existence. Always looking for some distraction meaningful enough to effectively alleviate the chronic pain of consciousness.

    Dwelling on such thoughts became no one (but like existence, it remained a fact of life. Undeniable). The blissful innocence of a subliminal mind seemed to the grazing stallion a veiled gift. Oh, to be a blade of grass, thought the young stallion. Oh, to be a butterfly and to exist in beauty, and to be eaten the very next second without a moment spared for thoughts of its own suffering. To be thoughtless, really, is the only functional way to exist in the present... And I fear I'll never possess such a capability.

    Pretty thoughts, to be sure, but invisible to those around him. A sigh worked its way around the food he held in his mouth, though this didn't slow his chewing. His jaw worked ceaselessly to render the grass into pulp. Such a pity, having to provide nutrients for the sack of flesh that harboured his mind. What better things he could be doing as a thoughtless leaf, adrift on a summer's wind; but he only stood there in the meadow, contemplatively feeding his host, a gray tail flicking at a gray side.

    Philosophy aside, hunger bid him partake in the carnal act of eating, and so, he did.
    beep beep I'm a sheep
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