06-27-2021, 02:51 PM
R I P T I D E
The forest is unlike any place he has lived in, and it is curiosity alone that brings him here. He had been born in the humid jungles of Tephra, and then moved to the unforgiving coastal winds of Nerine. The trees of Tephra were nothing like the giants that tower above him now, carpeted by a layer of fallen leaves, gradually growing closer and closer together the further he walks. It is nearly claustrophobic, should he focus on the feeling for too long—the darkness he walks into ahead, with the trees that swarm him at all sides.
There is nothing that he is looking for, and perhaps that is what he expects to find at the heart of this forest.
A nothing that might transform itself into a something—something to ignite a fire, something to displace the boredom and monotony he suffocated in.
He does not find a something, though, but rather, a someone. And even in the murky shadows and hardly a glimmer of light to strain through the trees he can see that she is radiant, and for a moment he simply stands, staring. Her blue is paler than his own blue, similar to a certain kind of wildflower he has seen growing in the meadowlands, but even in this poor lighting, he can see that iridescent sheen trying to break through. He steps closer, but suddenly becomes aware of how strange he looks — his head and his scales, the rattlesnake tail. Immediately he retracts his step, clearing his throat to make his presence known as he does so.
She is looking at something, and it is then that he hears the quiet sounds of the kits curled together on the ground at her feet. “Their mother must have died,” he says, and though his voice is quiet it feels amplified by the shadows and the trees, with all the other sounds so hushed. It is unnerving, and he wonders why she is not afraid to be out here alone; wonders if somewhere behind her pretty face is a reason that he should be afraid. It is a thought that causes his reptilian eyes to sweep across her curiously, but he does not make a motion to leave. “Are you going to try and save them?”
There is nothing that he is looking for, and perhaps that is what he expects to find at the heart of this forest.
A nothing that might transform itself into a something—something to ignite a fire, something to displace the boredom and monotony he suffocated in.
He does not find a something, though, but rather, a someone. And even in the murky shadows and hardly a glimmer of light to strain through the trees he can see that she is radiant, and for a moment he simply stands, staring. Her blue is paler than his own blue, similar to a certain kind of wildflower he has seen growing in the meadowlands, but even in this poor lighting, he can see that iridescent sheen trying to break through. He steps closer, but suddenly becomes aware of how strange he looks — his head and his scales, the rattlesnake tail. Immediately he retracts his step, clearing his throat to make his presence known as he does so.
She is looking at something, and it is then that he hears the quiet sounds of the kits curled together on the ground at her feet. “Their mother must have died,” he says, and though his voice is quiet it feels amplified by the shadows and the trees, with all the other sounds so hushed. It is unnerving, and he wonders why she is not afraid to be out here alone; wonders if somewhere behind her pretty face is a reason that he should be afraid. It is a thought that causes his reptilian eyes to sweep across her curiously, but he does not make a motion to leave. “Are you going to try and save them?”
— i slithered here from eden just to sit outside your door —
@galadriel