04-20-2016, 03:16 PM
Rile isn't here. I shouldn't be disappointed. There was no reason to expect he would be, and what would I have said to him even if he were? Hey, how's life without me? Do you miss me? Does your new family treat you well? Does your heart hurt anyhow when you think about me, or do you even think of me at all? No, I would have seen him and faded into the shadows, hiding from him now as I'd hidden from him the day he'd gone home with someone else. Still, I would have known he was okay, and happy, and perhaps it would have helped me settle in with my own new family.
Instead, I skulked through the playground in fruitless search of him, and then curled up in a nice, cozy cave for a nap. I sleep best in the cool, dark arms of the earth, shielded from the weight of eyes watching me. And the shelter drowns out the night sky's distant, haunting star song. Finding a cave to sleep in has become a habit, and I could use a rest before I head back to the Tundra to try to let myself fit into a world that seems to want me, even if I don't understand why.
I'm floating in that strange, heady place between waking and sleeping, the place where dreams tease the edge of my consciousness and indistinct murmurs shiver across my skin, when a strange girl's voice startles me into wakefulness. “Oye, what are you doing in here?” My eyes jerk open and I meet her gaze squarely, too surprised to be circumspect.
“Well I was almost sleeping,” I reply, and there's a defensive edge to the words that wouldn't have been there if I'd been fully awake when she stumbled upon my hiding place. The sharp note is jarring to my ears, a sound I've never heard from my own voice before, and the unexpected dissonance distracts me from my discomfort. I break our gaze, glancing around the cave, and when I speak my tone is softer, gentler. “And yourself?”
Instead, I skulked through the playground in fruitless search of him, and then curled up in a nice, cozy cave for a nap. I sleep best in the cool, dark arms of the earth, shielded from the weight of eyes watching me. And the shelter drowns out the night sky's distant, haunting star song. Finding a cave to sleep in has become a habit, and I could use a rest before I head back to the Tundra to try to let myself fit into a world that seems to want me, even if I don't understand why.
I'm floating in that strange, heady place between waking and sleeping, the place where dreams tease the edge of my consciousness and indistinct murmurs shiver across my skin, when a strange girl's voice startles me into wakefulness. “Oye, what are you doing in here?” My eyes jerk open and I meet her gaze squarely, too surprised to be circumspect.
“Well I was almost sleeping,” I reply, and there's a defensive edge to the words that wouldn't have been there if I'd been fully awake when she stumbled upon my hiding place. The sharp note is jarring to my ears, a sound I've never heard from my own voice before, and the unexpected dissonance distracts me from my discomfort. I break our gaze, glancing around the cave, and when I speak my tone is softer, gentler. “And yourself?”