22h • Village Square
Stormfire's First Experience with Life
We feel the heat draining from our warm little hole.
The rock no longer pops and burbles at us.
Perhaps it was never meant to.
Alas, we cannot tarry here.
Mother awaits our tales.
We leave our place of becoming.
It is no longer inviting.
Beyond, wonders call to us.
Great towering things surround us.
We see the movements of their many appendages.
So, so many.
What are they for?
What do they do?
Why do they need so many?
They sway in rhythmic, hypnotic patterns.
Is this a dance?
A language?
We tear our eyes away from the gentle sway.
We hear the slow pulse within them.
A pulse we know from Mother.
They are alive.
It is their life we sense.
We call out, hoping to learn.
They remain unmoving, silent.
Why do they not speak?
Surely all things must speak.
Yet these remain mute, swaying in unseen breath.
Beneath them, smaller things cling to the rock.
They too sway in their own way.
We hear their life as well.
Smaller, quieter, but life.
They too ignore our words.
What are we to do?
They are everywhere.
There is no room for flight.
We apologize for our rudeness and step forward.
They do not complain when we tread upon them.
Warmth blossoms where our forearm touches.
Flames leap up.
Are they angry at us?
Their life withers.
It ceases.
We withdraw, horrified.
We have ended something small and innocent.
What shall we do?
They are everywhere.
Silent.
Unyielding.
Are they here to trap us?
We stand frozen.
Shaking.
Trembling.
Uncertain.
We have ended life!!
Mother will be furious!!!!
Yet none of the small things move.
The endless swaying continues.
The great ones take no notice.
What are these things?
Are they so crude they care not for destruction?
Are they not angered?
In our panic, we almost miss it.
The rapid beat of life behind us.
We turn, slowly, fearing horror.
A small brown thing sits, eyeing us.
Its hind feet are large.
Its forelimbs small and padded.
Dark eyes regard us, accusing.
Long appendages twitch atop its head.
It has come to destroy us.
Revenge for its fallen kin.
It bends down.
We shift, ready to counter.
We tense…
And it gnaws upon the green swaying things,
siblings of those we destroyed.
We… we are… confused.......
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Stormfire's First Experience with Life
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