ORIGIN - Rakin up da monies

You're currently viewing a stripped down version of our content. View the full version with proper formatting.

But, no, seriously.

The gembound slept near the river for now, trading the soft grounds of Eridanus for the cooler floors of Polaris. The river ran smoothly and was nice as background noise. The cat slept soundly, its ears twitching every once in a while to listen to some noise instinctively. Though it wasn’t a deep sleep, the lynx could stay like this for hours, half aware of its surroundings, but not all the way awake. After the scare in Cetus, Fallah hadn’t gotten around much. The experience shook Fallah to the core. Sometimes, the cat would fall into a deep sleep and wake up in a panic, remembering the events from that day. Sometimes, it was the same, but at other times, it was crazily different. Sometimes Fallah died, and would wake up screaming, other times, Fisher or the big dark friend would die, and Fallah would wake up crying. The events haunted the cat. The name Nemean stuck out in its head. The monster had told then, “feed me and I am yours,” so could the cat possibly bring it food and have it tell about this Nemean and about this Creator. Was this another gembound, and were they to blame for the horrid experience of that day? In the half-sleep, Fallah’s brow furrowed. Slowly the creature began to move and, before long, it was awake.

"speak"

Slowly waking, the cat stretched and yawned, taking its time. It curled around in a few different positions, half dozing for a few minutes, then waking back up, stretching, then going to sleep again. It was a long process, one that the feline was fond of. There was no better feeling than waking up knowing one can just go right back to sleep. This cycle continued for several hours and probably could have continued all day if it wasn’t for that odd noise. What was that noise? The lynx tried to ignore the noise. It was a little tip tap almost like dripping water, but sharper. Fallah knew it wasn’t water the moment the sound resonated through the cave. Water was the feline’s element, so if something was water, it was immediately known by the cat for the most part. Large ears perked, and Fallah followed the noise, slowly, so slowly, rising from the slumber. Sleepily, the cat padded around, looking for the sound’s source. Even though the sound of the river was nice, it would be nicer if it would just stop for a minute and let Fallah listen. Both noises continued, however, and even though it took some effort, the lynx was able to follow it.

"speak"

The little bird hopped about. Gertrude could walk okay, but when he was grazing, it was mostly just hopping away. Hop, peck, hop, hop, peck seemed to be the bird's rhythm as it looked for food. Was that food? No, that was a rock. Was this food? No, it was another rock? What about this? No, that was the bird's own foot. Chirping lightly, the pigeon continued to hop around, unknowing of the lynx nearby. The lynx was able to get a good look at the tiny prince as he meandered about unaware. It was only after he turned around, giving up on food, that he noticed the reddish feline staring at him. His little heart set to pounding and he fluffed up, dropping to the ground to try to blend in. Beady eyes looked towards the big blue ones. The cat didn't seem like a threat, but the bird stayed still. Maybe if he was still, the cat would leave him alone. His head twisted slightly so that he could let each beady eye get a look at the massive- in comparison to him- lynx. It seemed that the thing was just going to stand there and stare at him. Well, that was rude! Gertrude's neck stretched upwards for a second, "Hey. Hey you! Yes, fur thing! What are you doing?" The bird would jump up to stand, puffing up its crop to look bigger, "What do you want? Why are you here?"

"Blah blah blah"

Fallah found the small gembound, hopping and pecking away at the ground. The cat was interested- more than interested- intrigued. It stood, observing quietly, while the little bird didn’t notice. The bird was definitely making the little tapping sounds with his beak, which he kept striking against the ground for whatever reason. This continued for a few minutes, and Fallah was happy to observe the strange, tiny, fluffy gembound. Once the odd-shaped bird did finally notice Fallah, he ducked down as some sort of defense mechanism. He kept that way for a while, all puffed and low to the ground. Fallah had to give it to him, he did look kind of like a rock. Even still, the tiny movements with his strangely shaped head gave him away. As lumpy and grey as he looked, he was still very much alive. The lynx just stood, waiting for the small thing to do something. This bird certainly wasn’t a threat- that much was for sure. When the pigeon finally came out of hiding, his voice rattled off at Fallah aggressively. The bird asked the lynx what it was doing, what it wanted, and why it was here. The cat tilted its head, “Sleeping. Noisy. Watching,” it said simply. It had been sleeping, then the bird was noisy, now the cat was watching the bird.