across the known world [embers; open]

[wytheria]

I'm waking up
I feel it in my bones

[/font][/size]

The

[/size] world, he had decided, was a highly varied, interesting place that could not be compared to the darkness from which he had emerged hours previously.

Since leaving the orchard with Hespera, a pale feline companion whom Vrohain had encountered moments after hatching, the pair had pressed onwards, out of their known world. The orchard lay behind them, lost in the dust from their paws and hidden by the gentle rolls of the blue-green fields. Above them, the sky was an unadultered blue, darkening as the sun dropped ever so insistently towards the horizon. Vrohain had caught only glimpses of the wildlife, a snake slithering hastily away, a few rodents diving underground, some birds that took to their wings at his approach.

Having not yet managed to catch anything to eat, Vrohain had continued to stroll along through the fields. The canine turned his narrow muzzle towards his companion, breaking the silence that had lain between them. "Since we are travelling together, it seems appropriate to introduce myself," he began formally. "I have decided to call myself Vrohain." The name, he felt, suited him; the way it rolled off of his tongue inexplicably pleased him, yet he could not definitively say why he had chosen it. No matter. It fit, and that was all that counted.

Suddenly drawing short, the petite canine's ears swiveled forwards, his attention directed towards a sun-warmed rock breaking above the waves of blue-tinted grass. Several of the elongated, tunneling rodents lay upon it, basking in the warmth from the late afternoon sun. Vrohain's entire being focused on the scent, his jaws parting slightly as he began to slink forwards. Lowering his body closer to the ground, the canine approached slowly, with the breeze blowing the rodents' scent towards him. The blue grass tickled the short, silky black fur of his belly as Vrohain drew within three paces of the rock.

One of the rodents twitched, and like a signal had been released, the canine suddenly coiled and sprang at them. Squeaking in fear, a scrabble ensued with the majority of the rodents leaping from the rock and disappearing into their tunnels. Yet one was too slow, plumper than his fellows and older, judging by his grey-tipped whiskers; one paw was malformed, lending to the rodent's sluggishness and allowing Vrohain to catch it in his teeth. Vrohain's jaws closed on the small body with a snap, the taste of blood immediately filling his mouth. Triumphant at last, the canine waved his tail happily, turning to show his prize off to Hespera.

"Foo'! He pronounced around the limp corpse, trotting back to where he had left his feline companion.

[/blockquote]

Enough to make my systems flow
Welcome to the new age

[/font][/size]

[Embers]

HESPERA

While I have lived only a day, I am certain my memory will prove stellar. The dog and I exit the Orchard in nothing but silence. As we tread gently down the slopes, I recite the numbers of things I've counted in order of least to greatest: Four spins. Seventeen cicadas. Twenty five natives. One hundred and twenty eight clovers. Two hundred and forty one berries. Between recitations, I tally the number of birds overhead: thirty two. The dog seems to have no interest in counting.

The day ushers in the evening with little shame, and the clouds of heat that plumed from the earth seem to disperse. Coarse grass sprawls for miles around us, everything swathed in a faint blue. Occasionally we pass dense fern thickets with haphazard fronds that bob frantically in the wind. The constant, scrabbling feet of smaller creatures persists in my ears. I can differentiate between their leisurely footsteps and their hurried dashes.

I am contemplating the meaning of a cloudy evening, when the dog suddenly introduces himself. I had not yet thought of him in terms of anything more than a dog, and am rather surprised. Ultimately, it seems practical, having a distinct name. "Vrohain," I repeat. "Interesting." The overt, drawn-out vowels in the word seemed apt; an easily remembered name, one where you have to move your mouth to say.

I contemplate my own name. It would be something that bore meaning regarding myself. I think about my sunset birth. The last breath of sun was my assurance that the dark was not prevailing. The evening still bore light before deepening into thick nighttime. "I've decided on Hespera," I tell him plainly. It means 'evening star.'"

Vrohain catches himself an old rodent, and I look at the creature dangling in his jaws. Its limp tail trails along the dirt, and its blood runs off of the dog's chin: it is no surprise to me that blood is red. "I told you red is an ill-meaning color," I remind. I consider catching food for myself, but find that I have little hunger.

This table is for use by Embers on A False World only

WORD COUNT 347

[wytheria]

I'm waking up
I feel it in my bones

[/font][/size]

Pleased

[/size] to hear that the feline though his name was interesting, Vrohain wagged his tail happily. He had, of course, considered several others during their silent walk; admittedly, the surroundings had distracted the canine from his search for a name, but he had slowly eliminated name after name. 'Vrohain' had simply sounded correct, the long vowels and the consonants that made you work your jaw to sound out. Having claimed it for himself, the noir canine was quite content to watch the world go by as they passed.

"It is a lovely name, Hespera," he said, listening to the way the feline's name seemed to whisper off his tongue. It sounded like mist, nearly, without much substance to hold it in place. An evening star... Vrohain had not yet seen one, but he knew that stars were pinpricks of light that came out at night. (How he knew, he wasn't quite sure, but know he did.) The name went well, he thought, with the pale-furred feline--full of mystery and quiet, light and airy.

Settling down onto his haunches, Vrohain spat the rodent out onto the grass before him. "do you mind if we stop for a moment?" He asked Hespera, only noting the red sticky substance flowing from the rodent's corpse as the feline repeated her opinion on the color red. So this was red? He cocked his head, eyeing the blood on the fur of the rodent. Experimentally, Vrohain bent his head and licked it, eyes brightening at the taste. "It may be red, but it tastes good."

If he hadn't been quite so hungry--hatching took a lot of energy--Vrohain may have offered to share his meal. As it was, the canine tucked in, letting instinct lead the way into the rodent's belly. Eating was quite a messy affair, staining the white fur of his chin red as Vrohain discovered the taste of flesh. The body rolled when he attempted to tear off a piece, so the canine placed his paw on it to hold it in place. In short order, Vrohain discovered the best way to get to the meat, although perhaps not quite the cleanest.
[/blockquote]

Enough to make my systems flow
Welcome to the new age

[/font][/size]

[Embers]

HESPERA

The sky eases into a deeper blue, as the sun continues to lower itself down with ease, simultaneously hoisting up a faint, white outline of moon. I am watching fireflies buzz overhead, their thick, green glow pooled around them in flight. I keep a tally of the fireflies—thirty, thus far—but am worried I have counted the same few too many times. Fireflies, I believe, are a good sign; they are little suns in the nighttime, harbingers of light. I imagine the plains without them, when the daytime exhausts itself completely. How the fields would be black, and how simple noises would overwhelm the senses in absence of sight. I look to the dog—to Vrohain, that is—and think how his eyes would light up in the dark, too, like red-tailed fireflies.

Vrohain seems to like my name, and I am surprised at how pleased I am. I am affirmed that I have chosen right. Hespera. Turning briefly away from my companion, I mouth my name to myself. It feels more natural than an exhale, and more important, too. I wonder if someone has ever chosen to go unnamed. If anyone ever did, I would consider them a fool.

I watch the dog eat his kill, the blood that slips between his downy fur. He consumes it ravenously, his paws on its flaccid body, as though, were he to stop, it would vanish on the spot. I find his mannerisms mildly distasteful, but say nothing. Licking a paw, I clean behind my ears, and at my cheeks, a bit fatigued from the walk. While I haven't yet determined the exact rules to appropriate interaction, I believe I have been watching Vrohain too carefully. Instead, I direct my gaze past him, and watch night owls circling in the distance with broad wings.

"What do you hope to get out of this?" I ask Vrohain as suddenly as always. "Have you thought about your purpose in life?" I had thought extensively about my own purpose already, about mastering the world. It was like being a collector, about knowing things and cataloging them. We'd learned so much already, about the kinds of natives that lived in the world, about the life-giving will of the Orchard, about the color red, and fireflies, and the night—the fruit of only a single day's existence.

This table is for use by Embers on A False World only

WORD COUNT 386

[wytheria]

I'm waking up
I feel it in my bones

[/font][/size]

Eating

[/size] was more difficult than he had thought it would be, Vrohain reflected, chewing on a strip of meat. The taste was richer, fuller, than anything he could have imagined by himself, yet different than what he expected. Licking his chops self-consciously--Hespera's stare was beginning to unnerve him--the canine bent his head back to the corpse. Perhaps if he turned his head just so, and tried to gnaw instead of rip... The maneuver worked slightly better than his previous attempts to divest the rodent of its meat. Or at least, it didn't roll quite so much under his paw. The rodent was surprisingly hefty, Vrohain noted, as he repeated his new maneuver again. A bare third of the flesh remained as he slowly chewed the meat, yet his stomach was beginning to feel quite satisfied.

Vrohain's ears flicked forwards, one swiveling towards Hespera as the feline spoke in her soft hush of a voice. Raising his head, the canine finished chewing his latest chunk as he considered her question. A purpose? What was his purpose? Did life require a purpose? His tail thumped dully against the ground as he swallowed, licking the blood from his muzzle before responding. "I have not yet considered it." The canine turned his gaze from the feline, to watch as the fireflies drifted up from the grass, blinking. "I suppose I must have a purpose, as I was born. But I do not know what it is. Have you found one?" The gleaming rubies flashed back to Hespera, then dropped back to the shadow of his meal. He was determined to finish it and not be wasteful, especially before the light of his first day was faded away completely.

The hoot of the owls kept him on edge as Vrohain finished stripping the meat from the bones, having already consumed the deliciously soft organs. As the final rays of the sun winked below the horizon, the canine cleaned his muzzle as best he could and stood. "Eating is much messier than I thought it would be," he commented, leaving the stripped carcass to nature. At least he was pleasantly full, not quite stuffed, as he turned his nose towards the pale face of the moon. Darkness, a pale round light, sprinkles of pinpricks appearing in the velvety sky... "This is night?" Vrohain turned as an owl swooped past, a shadow against the sky as it silently snatched up its prey--a small, tailed rodent. Perhaps he should have stayed in the orchard...
[/blockquote]

Enough to make my systems flow
Welcome to the new age

[/font][/size]

[Embers]

HESPERA

My eyes have grown fatigued from counting the fireflies, and I can feel the ache inside of my head—almost as if I had bruised them with too much sight. I close them briefly and watch the little lights dance behind my lids like the bobbing ghosts of the lightning bugs. I find it unnerving. The stars blink on as if startled awake, and I try to turn myself so as to look at them the same way I had in the Orchard the night before. Finding it, I settle down in the grass and connect them into patterns. There is a particular shape that worries me, one with a red star for an eye.

Vrohain seems to have mastered the art of consumption, and I listen to his response to my question. "Haven't considered it?" I ask with an inkling of surprise. I wonder what could have been more important for him to be thinking about. For the first time, I consider the individuality of a mind as I count the blades of grass between my paws—eighty nine. I rip one out.

"Well, I propose that everyone has the same purpose," I explain with little excitement. "And we're working toward it right now." Frowning, I watch a cloud obscure the crescent moon. Clouds are inherently malignant signs—the serve no purpose but the obstruction of light. I stand and circle impatiently, waiting for the cloud to pass. It does so quickly, and I drop again to the earth, resuming. "We talked briefly about ends, before. It only makes sense that we end, too," I speak just as much to myself as I do to Vrohain, and find my volume increasing and decreasing inconsistently. "But there would be no reason for us to end unless we've exhausted every single thing this world has to offer." I pause. "So, our purpose is to exhaust ourselves, or the world. Whichever comes first."

Satisfied with my reasoning, I close my eyes and watch the little lights for a moment. In resting, I find that I am mimicking the night and its vacancy.

This table is for use by Embers on A False World only

WORD COUNT 344