[PRP] Bared Truths (Sylph x Born Again)

[anemosagkelos]

Paranoia had made him a fool and he felt every bone in his body. The ache from within matched the bruises and cuts that littered his body but it was not his beauty that suffered nor even his ego. The change was reflected instead in his posture as his frame itself seemed to droop.

Weariness had leaked into his muscles and he was stumbling forward as if he had forgotten the option to stop even existed. It was habit really, to continue on, but as his hooves scraped against the dirt of the earth, it seemed to trigger the realization that he had no one to run from now. For a moment, he seemed to pause in mid step and as the weight of the world was shed from his shoulders he collapsed into the dirt itself with a faint smile spread upon his mouth.

It hurt to fall and his bones seemed to echo the pain that intensified the moment his skeleton impacted the ground. He felt the throb of his heart pound in sync with the pain that pulsed within his bones, his muscles, his skin, his teeth. He had been beaten; not physically, or perhaps he had, it was becoming harder to remember the Totoma that he had fought so ferociously with, but mentally, he was ruined. The paranoia had cornered him into an impossible situation and he had believed it, fully, before the full scope of a Totoma hellbent on killing him had made him realize the error. And as the battle had raged, he had started the arduous journey of dismantling the voices that screamed within his own head. They could not be trusted and he had, for too long, considered them a boon when indeed they had only ever been a curse.

Sylph heaved a breath that rattled through his lungs and through the air. It hurt to even do that but he lived. At least, he assumed he did. For surely death did not hurt this much, which left him with only life. And life did hurt, exponentially it seemed the longer he stayed down. Yet he had not the energy to get up and so he stayed, a heaving wreck that had broken on the rocks but not died.

[Owlsomniac]

The sun is well on its way down its predictable path by the time Born Again spots the huddled lump lying in the dirt. He's right where the young filly who'd spotted him had said he'd be.

The bright glow of Born Again's eyes proceeds him as he steps closer, wary in case the buck may find it fit to attack out of confusion, or derangement. For the state of his pelt and mane are not in good order, and Rise has learned that animals, even kin, may bite or claw when frightened or hurt.

It's not until he is quite close, and a breeze lifts a familiar scent to him, that he realizes he recognizes this buck. Rise curses, once, on a surprised breath of air that the breeze promptly carries away.

"Oh...my poor friend. This is hardly how I imagined we might meet again."

Later, with the help of others, he stands nearby as the healers tend to Sylph's wounds, and the gatherers lay turtle shells filled with fresh cool water and foods nearby for when he might wake.

The healers say it looks like he was attacked, though it's hard to say by what - or perhaps who.

All Rise can do is wait, and watch. He's good at both, yet he can't quite seem to quell the flutter in his chest that beats anxiously whenever he considers the buck's sorry state.

When morning comes, he is still there, though he has retired to sitting nearby. Hovering, even.

[anemosagkelos]

He dreamt of flying and falling. In one moment, the sea swallowed him whole only for him to shoot into the sky like a speeding star in a dire rush to get back to the sky. In another moment, he tried to soar only to have fire catch upon the tips of his feathers and incinerate him until he was naught but ash. He fidgeted constantly in the restless sleep he was trapped within, soft gasps and heartbreaking whimpers pooling from his lips as he went from one extreme to the next. And as his dreams evened and he found himself once more face to face with a Totoma—he wondered what her name was and if he had ever heard it—he startled awake, eyes blinking open and mouth parting to pull in a deep gasp of air.

The breath held for a moment, as he laid there, eyes scattering in all directions to take in these new surroundings. He recognized none of it and, previously, that would have had him bolt upright and run disregarding his pain and injuries. And he couldn't say that the feeling did not pop against his muscles but he stilled it. He was not prey; he was not a captive. He was injured and someone—there he was.

The sight of Born Again brought it all into perspective. The tribe he had spoken of, that must be where he was now. And why he felt, not healed but cared for. And it struck him now that he did not recall ever quite feeling that way before. Except maybe with Fluke and now with Born Again. And he relaxed, felt his breath exhale and his body sink more comfortably into the ground.

A smile fluttered against his lips, "Hello, Handsome."

[Owlsomniac]

Though Rise can't imagine what Sylph dreams of, he does his best to soothe him when his whimpers and sounds of distress become too acute.

Rise is drifting in a meditative state when Sylph finally stirs awake, and blinks once , twice, before turning his head and meeting his gaze. He smiles, both to see him up and at the greeting itself. Born Again has never really considered himself to be vain, but the flattery isn't unwelcome, either.

"Good morning," he says, his voice a low burr, a little roughened with lack of sleep. Despite this, however, there is a warmth in his expression, in the small smile at the corners of his mouth, and the edges of his eyes.

He stands, stretching, and sighs as something in his back pops satisfactorily. Then, he tilts his head at Sylph, only barely managing to remember not to scrape his antlers across the top of the little den they're in (he's a tall buck anyway, and the antlers aren't a problem in his own den or when he's sleeping under the stars, but he often has to be more mindful when he finds himself in the spaces of others).

"Hmm... I think we should probably eat, you look as though you could use it, and then perhaps... You might tell me what happened to you?" He gestures toward the gathered shells full of berries and sweet leaves, dried meats and fish, fresh water and one smaller one that contains some bits of honeycomb. He's pleased, though unsurprised, that his tribe had provided so many options to ensure their guest's comfort.

[anemosagkelos]

The thought of food is simultaneously pleasant and not although his stomach does grumble as if in agreement with Born Again's idea. It is perhaps the idea of movement that sends him into small fits of tension but he is not one to lie down forever. He makes to roll up onto his stomach and then pauses, in thought, realizing that he has no need to hurry. He has no need to move at all if he doesn't wish it. And it is a myriad of emotions: joy and horror, awe and disgust. The world has shed a layer and so, too, perhaps has he. There is no need to rush but as his stomach continues to rumble, he thinks perhaps there is no harm in attempting to enjoy a meal.

"Yes, I can only imagine sustenance would help, and as my stomach has developed it's own voice," he jokes as he finally does upright himself. He stays there, however, as the world spins in earnest and it takes a few moments for the ground to feel steady enough that he might stand. Only as he starts to rise, the aches awake and the air itself begins to sway. He stops his movement and considers his actions. He realizes that the shells of food are not as far as he had originally thought and, with a slight flush, he crawls instead. It is an action he doesn't think he has done since he was a child but it keeps his head steady and that is more important than looking unaffected. (As if he could even pull it off with so many injuries.)

He looks at the food and then to Born Again, for he is not about to eat it all himself, "You need to eat, as well. And then we'll talk and I'll tell you things I have only told my precious, Fluke."

[Owlsomniac]

As Sylph makes himself comfortable, Rise settles down as well so that they might be of a level. He laughs softly at the joke, though his expression soon turns thoughtful.

"Yes... I think that would be best." He feels, even as he says this, that what Sylph is about to offer is quite a gift, indeed. It's more than just whatever words he is about to speak, but some measure of trust - which is a thing not easily measured, being so precious, and often too easily broken.

"Whatever you wish to say here is safe. I wish for you to know that. I'll keep your words and worries, and will not speak to others about things that are not mine to share, unless you wish it. Or," he amends softly, "only if I feel I must under the gravest circumstances, and only then if necessary."

Rise meets Sylph's gaze steadily with his own, and hopes the other buck believes him.

Then, he nods toward their breakfast, and once they have both eaten their fill he sighs, stretching out more comfortably, and offers Sylph a small smile of encouragement.

[anemosagkelos]

After what he had been through, this lifetime of paranoia, Born Again's words were appreciated but unneeded. A few days ago it would been met with a silent rebuke; it would have been thought a lie or, if not a lie, than an offer that would never be taken up on. Sylph had learned, young, that kin lied and it had fed the paranoia for his lifetime. Indeed, he had, himself, become a kin who lied about who he was and what his own name was. All in the name of survival, of freedom. But now, was there a need, a reason to ever lie again? He assumed there would be at some point but that was not today. It was not to Born Again.

"I am not a trusting kin for in my dream, I was a captive. The kin who had taken me placed me within a bubble and I forgot who and what I was. I was not a kin myself and it was not until my captor died that I was released. That is how I awoke to the world, with a newfound freedom that I knew was precious and easily taken away. And I have carried that lesson with me for many steps for I knew that should someone realize that I was not a kin, as so many of us are, I would become a captive once more," he sighed, his voice grave with the seriousness of it. For though it had the potential to sound silly, in his own words and in his own voice, there was a vein of terror that lurked beneath each word. The idea that any kin, any creature, could be taken and imprisoned by another was true horror. Freedom was everything to kin, to creature.

"I have lied to many kin about my name. I have occasionally granted a few the truth for my name is, indeed, Sylph, and in my dream, just as I awoke, I remembered that I had been a hummingbird. They are not so well known in the swamp as songbird or crane but they exist and though I have the body of a kin name, they are still my brethren. In my naming, I had been captive so long that I knew not what I was or had been or could even be anymore. I existed by seconds and it was not until my captor's death—he was killed so that this new villain could take me for itself but the previous captor's bubble that had entombed me for ions finally broke—that I remembered it," he explained solemnly. "Think of forgetting yourself for years with no company but your own thoughts and then to wake as a child . . . ," Sylph shook his head. "I was wholly unprepared to be yet alive and I took the only lesson I could from my naming dream. I could not trust those around me and it had grown ever stronger and ever more frequent, that paranoia."

He sighed, "I thought the Totoma was there to take me or to perhaps even kill me. In this case, it wasn't, but it is never wise to pick a fight with the kin from the mountains," he snorted, at least able to find amusement in the fight that could have killed him. (And by looks of it, quite nearly had.)

[Owlsomniac]

Rise listens to all of it with a patient expression which grows more concerned toward the end. He doesn’t interrupt, or immediately jump in with comment once Sylph has finished. Rather, he looks thoughtful, watching the buck for a few moments before looking out of the den, his gaze unfocused as though he is lost in his own thoughts.

Finally, after perhaps a minute or two, he looks back and says, quietly, “I’m sorry that you seem to suffer from this past experience of yours. Though you are no longer a hummingbird, or captured by whoever contained you, it seems as though, regardless, some part of you has remained trapped by the past. I don’t wish to make any paltry comments. In honesty, it sounds absolutely terrible.”

Rise pauses, frowning faintly, and lets out a breath. “I’m grateful, though, you know,” and he smiles, a brief flash that is more in his eyes than anything else. “For your trust, I mean. That you would trust me with this – something which is clearly difficult for you.”

Still… there remains the question of how to help him. It’s a complex issue, for sure, and Rise is certain it will take time, and effort, and he is not sure if Sylph is even quite ready for anything like that. Small steps. The other buck has already made a huge leap, it would seem, in allowing himself to be so open and vulnerable in this way.

Well.

“Of course, I haven’t had your experience, and so I can only speak on what I have observed in my own life. That said, I think that… you may find that there are more kin than not who rather wish to help those around them, or at the very least to leave them be and keep to themselves. That isn’t to say there aren’t those with some…” he pauses, as if searching for the word, and then shrugs, “some darkness within them. Some more than others, even. Yet, I’ve found that safety, and comfort, is most readily found among those who share a common vision, or those willing to accept us for who we are. That’s friendship, camaraderie, even family, after all. For me, it is also my tribe, which consists of all of these things.”

He smiles at Sylph, quietly, and says, “I hope you’ll stay for a time, beyond even when you are physically able, if only to see this for yourself. You’re welcome to leave whenever you wish, of course,” he’s careful to stress this, gently.

“I think you will find that most, if not all, of the kin here will share a similar view to yours, in that life is sacred, and one’s autonomy, and freedom, are paramount.”

[anemosagkelos]

There is a small part of him that expected laughter because it sounded ridiculous, the paranoia that has raged and ruled his life, and yet he did not see Born Again ever being so unkind. And, ultimately, that was all that he needed now: kindness and time. He has never stayed in one spot long enough to know the kin and flora and the fauna but now . . .

"Yes," he replied, eventually, "I'd like to stay. It may not be forever, I have spent so many years as a wanderer, but I've never had some place to come back to," he smiled. He could wander to visit Fluke and return to visit Born Again. They were like his sun and his moon, he thought, and he might radiate them forever but in the time between he would have kin and creature to meet, discoveries to make, and more life to live.

[Owlsomniac]

Rise tries not to seem too surprised, and if something inside of him twinges in anticipation at the same time, well - one can hardly blame him. He's looking forward to getting to know Sylph better, and sharing his home with him, even if it may only be temporary, though he hopes that even if Sylph wanders away, he will always wander back again.

He doesn't say this, but he does shift closer, enough that he can feel Sylph's warmth against his flank.

"Good," Rise says, his voice a soft, deep, burr of pleasure, but the smile on his face that is small, but soft and warm and private, speaks eloquently enough.