Corn's Names

[Corn]

[imgright]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... uncert.png[/imgright]In the dream, she's surrounded by insects - flying bugs fill the air in every direction. An older kin is indicating things, and telling her what colors they are. "This is orange," they say, and "this is purple." She's distracted by the flowers, however. The older kin has told her the colors on all of them, but there's one color they haven't named. She asks again, "What's this color?" The insects buzz, almost derisively, and the older kin doesn't seem to hear her. The insects land on the flowers, legs delicately brushing the unnamed colors. She asks again, and again. The kin finally answers her, and tells her one of the colors they've already named, and she stomps her small hoof impatiently. "Not that color," she says, "The other one!"

The older kin looks at the daisy, perplexed. "There isn't another color," they say.

[Corn]

UNFINISHED. probably a pattern of light and dark revealing a shape??

[Corn]

UNFINISHED. a simple detail piece

[Corn]

UNFINISHED. memories fracture off and dissolve

[Corn]

UNWRITTEN

[Corn]

UNWRITTEN

[Corn]

UNWRITTEN. I got it from my daddy

[Corn]

UNWRITTEN

[Corn]

UNWRITTEN

[Corn]

UNWRITTEN

[Corn]

UNWRITTEN. yeah you meant so well but your song's no good around here

[Corn]

UNWRITTEN. a pigment?

[Corn]

UNWRITTEN. it came from the sky

[Corn]

[imgright]https://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/imag ... uncert.png[/imgright]She was an oddity among her tribe of strong and warlike totoma. She was friendly and gregarious, for one - and refused to fight, for another, content to stay back and tend to the tribe's territory rather than fight on the front lines. Such a task was typically reserved for those too old or infirm to fight, but none could convince her to leave that work for those who had earned the respite. While her easygoing nature helped her make friends easily, her lack of courage earned her many more detractors than friends. As the years went on, and she showed no sign of changing her mind about fighting, those closest to her began to despair of her ever earning her name, while those who led the tribe quietly considered whether banishment was a suitable punishment for such extreme cowardice.

One Spring visited heavier rains and stronger winds upon their mountain than had been seen in many years. While the main body of the tribe was out campaigning, those left at home hid from the storm's fury in a cave's mouth. The winds howled and wailed, and in the midst of that cacophony, a deafening series of cracks and crashes rent the air. After that, everything seemed quieter, and the badly startled totoma fell into a restless sleep.

When they awoke, it was discovered that everything actually had become quieter after the cracking and crashing the last night - an ancient tree rooted in the rocks and shallow earth outside had fallen in the wind, blocking the entrance to their refuge. There was no telling how much rock was on top of the tree, and the totoma present weren't exactly in their prime - it seemed like they were trapped. As the first feathers of panic whispered through the air, one young voice spoke up confidently.

"We can move it."

Every eye turned to look at the kin who had spoken - the young totoma who was shirking her combat duties. her words were met with scornful snorts and derision. Even in this dangerous situation, they held their pride in their willingness to face combat above all else, and any suggestion from this nameless failure would only be mocked. The most senior among them raised his voice above the hubbub and told her sternly, "We are not strong enough anymore for this labor. You, however, are young and fit - so you move it yourself."

With serene calm, the youngster said, "Fine. I will move it."

First she set to the scree on top of the thick trunk that was filling the top of the cave mouth. This proved to only be a thin layer of rubble after all, which was certainly a blessing, but the act of digging out was still arduous. While the others retreated farther into the cave, the young doe scraped the stones loose and moved them to the sides of the cave. The first shafts of light and breaths of air from this greatly cheered the waiting totoma, but the worst of the work was still to come. The tree still needed to be moved.

While not, strictly speaking, undaunted by the task ahead of her, the totoma set to it without fuss, bracing her horns low against the trunk and her hooves wide beneath her. She gave it her all, trying to slowly walk forward, but barely shifted the trunk, her hooves sliding out beneath her rather than finding purchase against her solid foe on the cave floor. Although she made no progress, she kept trying for hours, resting occasionally to ease the pain in her neck and back, but relentlessly putting hoof to the task time and again.

The fourth or fifth time she set to it, she was surprised to feel someone else near her. One of the elderly totoma - not the eldest who had spoken to her first, but not one of the injured  or ill - had broken away from the rest of the group amid a stunned silence, and stood beside her. The elder totoma gently knocked horns with the young doe, and said gruffly, "That's enough playing around, girl. We'll move it together."

The two totoma squared themselves as the one had before, and heaved against the stubborn trunk, also to no avail. As they rested, another totoma, and then another, joined the effort. Gradually, all of the totoma were moved to action by the boldness of one of their fellows, rallying around the doe who had faced their challenge with grace and dignity. By working together, they were able to roll the trunk away and free themselves, and the doe had shown she was not unwilling to face a challenge - provided that it did not involve fighting.

[Corn]

UNFINISHED. plont 3: plont harder