Kian Shi
Posted: Fri Aug 04, 2006 12:21 am
[-|=|: 2534 JY: 2nd Cycle, Floris of Summer, 17, Quinteth
=|-]The sound of pounding feet stuttered as the mektoub apparently paused to turn, then gradually settled to a soft padding as it slowed to a leisurely trot.
This was heard by a tiny creature that lay in the grass, fear pulsing through its mind.
The padding seemed to circle the creature, somewhere among the trees, just out of sight.
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--]Kian had been amused and pleased that morning to find that dew had collected on his mask. He had been treated by the forest as if he were the same as any Irena bush. His meditation the previous night had reached a new depth, in which he had felt profound connection to the life energy. The unfortunate effect of this, however, was that he had bled sap, causing his healing ability to be diminished for the rest of the day.
Now he rode his mektoub aimlessly, watching the yubos and other wildlife, his mind noting how the cool breeze kept the summer warmth minimal by comparison to the heat and humidity of the jungle at this time of cycle.
His eyes happened to connect with a small bright-pink spot on the ground. At first, he did not recognise it for what it was, and guided his mektoub towards it for a better look. Realizing that it was a small version of the pink birds that he had often seen around the treetops of the Dorotea and Salina, Kian's curiosity was peaked. He dismounted and knelt in the grass by the bird, trying to project a sense of security and non-threat so as to calm the creature. It seemed to have been lost or abandoned, perhaps fallen from a nest that was sufficiently near to the ground to prevent injury.
He took a small, soft piece of mektoub skin from his pack and draped it over his hands. Reaching very slowly towards the bird, while murmuring meaningless words in a comforting tone, he carefully wrapped the skin around it and picked it up. Cradling it close to his chest, he stood, and held it in one hand while he used his other hand to prepare a place for the bird on his mektoub's saddle.
In this helpless creature, Kian saw not only a fellow being in need of care, but also a friend. Though he found peace in the general solitude of his existence, there was a part of his soul that craved kinship. Despite occasional conversations with various homins, that soul was starving - hence the Limmel dagger he carried at all times. The dagger represented a sentimental value, a memory. At least now, with this bird, he would have a constant companion.
With the bird safely tucked into a makeshift saddlebag lined with soft materials, Kian pulled himself up onto his mount and gave one of the reins a gentle tug. The mektoub grunted and lifted its trunk from the ground, where it had been rooting for food, and obediently started forward. Once again wandering...
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