[ORP Excerpt] June Flower Festival 2013 [ Shroud/Lost Things ]

[Jun]

[ Original on Gaia here ]

[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... uncert.png[/imgleft]


Shroud bounded into the clearing, turning his head this way and that in interest. Not that he could see a lick of the colourful sights of the Flower Festival, but the cheerful babble of Kin gave him considerable hope that he (at last) was at the right place. It had been quite the journey - had taken some time, several wrong turns, foraying blind - it was a minor miracle, in fact, that he had even ever arrived. But Shroud put quite a lot of stock into minor miracles, and into adventures, which the trek had undoubtedly been (his hindlimb still bore the tiny puncture marks of the nest of baby alligators - at least, he thought they were baby alligators - he had unfortunately wandered into, whoops, but, there, another minor miracle that mommy alligator hadn't been home at the time). And now the flowing talk, the competing scents of flowers, he could already tell, he had never encountered, made the compelling case that it had all been happily worth it.

"Hello, friend!" he called out, to no one in particular - to anyone who deigned answer, "this must be the Flower Festival?"

[Jun]

[imgright]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... ricket.gif[/imgright]Lost Things wandered the gathering, admiring the wares.  She  complimented fellow kin on their adornments.  Lost hadn't bothered to wear anything special.  She figured if the whim hit her, she could find something at the festival to suit her fancy.

A plain brown kin with a bit red splashed on his body caught Lost's attention.  Lost wondered if the red was the poor fellow's idea of personal adornment.  In a sea of colorful kin, the buck's simple colors were lost.

Lost might have continued on her way if it weren't for the buck's mannerisms.  He appeared to be a bit lost.  Ah, this was her specialty, she thought.  If it was lost, she could find it.  She wandered over to offer her assistance and noticed that the buck was not simply a plain kin, but a rarely seen Zikwa.  This was a rare find, indeed, she thought. 

"Hello, Friend," replied Lost.  "This is indeed the Flower Festival." Lost's cheerful demeanor dropped when she saw that the red color on the buck's hide was not paint, but blood. "You've been hurt.  Do you need help?"

[Jun]

"What? Oh -" he kicked a little on his heels and stuck out the slightly-gnawed hindlimb, laughly freely, "oh no, I am just fine. Baby alligators, miss - I didn't know it was bleeding, little teeth run deep! It hardly hurts - and if there's any more red on me, that's just how I was made. Thank you so very much for your answer - and your kindness!"

[Jun]

"You're very welcome," replied Lost.  She felt a little disconcerted that the buck didn't want help for an obvious injury, but she didn't want to be pushy about something that didn't seem to bother him.  "Is there anything else I could help with?"  Lost still felt that he might need some assistance, so she lingered.  She was also curious to as what might have brought the elusive Zikwa to the Festival. "Are you looking for anything special in the festival?"

[Jun]

"Everything is special in the festival," he cried, nearing rapture, "so many new flowers, so many new Kin - though I daresay none could be as kind as you."

He sprung forward at that, nimbly bowing - he did not notice, but, unconsciously, the punctured limb was favoured: it stuttered ever so slightly with the brief weight on it. The blood trickle still persisted lazily...Shroud was oblivious to injury, but perhaps the kind doe was right.

[Jun]

"That's sweet of you to say," replied Lost with a smile. "You'll find that many of the kin here are kind and helpful."

Lost was a little surprised by the sudden movement of the buck, but she recovered quickly. 

"Your injury doesn't seem to be hampering your ability to walk. Perhaps we could stroll a bit.  I'm sure we could find a stall with some healing herbs.  It would help the trickle on your leg." Despite Shroud's claim that it hardly hurt, Lost felt that it should be tended to.  Even little hurts can get infected.

[Jun]

"A mud pat!" he cried, perhaps overdelighted, "that would be lovely, so very kind! I have a lot of time for mud - my sister tells me that is the colour I am. You wouldn't think, to look at my sister - and my brother, for that matter - and I, that we are related. My sister and brother, I am told, are sun-coloured, beautiful golds. I am but a smudge of dirt next to those sunflowers - but isn't that fine? The dirt welcomes us all, in the end. Oh, but what colour are you?"

He paused, tilting his eyeless gaze in her direction: strained for a moment, found no glow - and no more could he make out through his dark, dark veil, but, he guessed, though it was only a guess, there could be more shadow. She did not feel too much different from his golden sister, though it was only a feeling.

"Might you be a sunflower too?" he laughed.

[Jun]

He didn't hear her answer – it seemed, in the midst of all the revelry, she had been swept away by the crowd. But it didn't matter, for so, too, had he. Perhaps she found him again, later, perhaps she did not. That, too, didn't matter, for the bleeding, eventually, did stop, and the Flower Festival was all that it had promised.

END