They almost couldn't believe it when they'd finally emerged.
Fresh. New. Perfect. Just like before, with only the charred remains of plant life around them as evidence of what had happened before. Sleep had washed it all away.
Just like it had the first time.
But could they simply forget the second time, too? It didn't feel very fair. The world was supposed to be safe, and Eridanus most of all their haven. They could slumber forever and be safe. But they didn't have control over when they woke up, and anyway they liked being awake sometimes. It was nice to have friends when you weren't being burnt to death.
Yellow fidgeted with their kaleidoscope. They were beginning to wonder what had happened to their brother. Really wonder, this time. Sometimes they really didn't feel like wondering but their brain just went ahead and did it anyway, which wasn't very cool of it. They clambered into the alcove with the swirling magic and leaned their back against it. The whooshing was kind of soothing, they decided as they pointed the kaleidoscope out at Gemini. The crystals here made especially pretty patterns. Maybe they should try to find Khloros again.
Nothing could ever suggest that the infinite pool of energy and matter was alive and able to offer comfort, but its presence was known nonetheless. It filled the silence: sometimes, it sounded like the rushing of wind; the rustle of feathers or pine needles through the air; the clu-clu-clu-cluck! of hoofbeats; the creaking of a wagon wheel; the murmuring of voices in indistinct tongues. Every sound always was distorted by the rift and echoed around the small alcove.
Nothing could ever suggest that the rift was alive and offer comfort, but it churned and warbled behind the Sifaka's back, and upended a sort of... blanket over their shoulders.
It was heavy, made of threadbare fabric that smelled of smoke and sweat. Its crimson coloring was spattered with dried bloodstains, and strips had been torn from the bottom of it. A golden sigil was emblazoned upon its center. Torn loops lined the top of it, where the banner may have once been attached to a pole and hoisted high above a crowd. From top to bottom, it was about five feet long. Side to side, it was two feet wide.
@Yellow
They were only a lemur, sitting there and minding their own business.
It was a very unwelcome surprise when a very heavy cloth was dumped onto them from absolutely nowhere, enveloping them once more with the scent of smoke. Yellow let out a small 'oof' at the sudden weight, scrambling from the rift in a burst of panic. Once safely on the ground, they stared up at the cloth half-hanging out of the alcove.
It had just... appeared. There'd been no cloth moments before, and now there was. Yellow was ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that there was no one hiding in the alcove, or nearby, so WHERE had it come from??? Thin air? Or had the rift magic somehow... spat it out onto them?
It was quite dirty, they realized as they got a better look at the thing. There were stains all over that looked like... blood? They'd bled sometimes when they'd hurt themselves by accident, but never enough to stain something this big. It couldn't possibly be blood, right? And it was so smelly, and now they were smelly, too!
The sifaka grimaced, and leapt into the pool under the waterfall. If they were careful, they could use it as a bath-shower combo of sorts, and they did, determined to rid themselves of the nasty scent. Meanwhile, they thought about the mysterious banner. It was dirty and battered and old, but it had appeared next to them. Was there some sort of... significance they were missing? Was it somehow important, or meant for them?
In any case, they'd have to wash it first. Yellow scowled--an uncharacteristic expression becoming more and more common these days--at the thought of what a massive undertaking it'd be.
It turned out to be surprisingly not that hard, though they had no idea why. Maybe it was because the fabric was extra good for scrubbing itself with. The old (probably not blood?) stains were too ingrained into the fibers to come out, but they did become fainter. That was probably the best they were going to get, Yellow decided, and then shoved the entire thing under the waterfall so that the running water hit it directly.
Getting the banner out of the pool was another question entirely. It turns out that when you add water to an already-heavy cloth, it becomes even heavier. Yellow tugged and strained at the banner, but it was a struggle to drag it onto dry crystal mere inches at a time.
With the cloth not even halfway out, the sifaka huffed, puffed, and flopped into a heap next to it. They needed a break.
They lay there for a time, catching their breath, before returning their attention to the task. If the water was still touching the banner, it'd never dry, and then they'd be stuck here for even longer. Not that it was a bad place, but there wasn't much food for someone like them. Or--anyone?
It was no easier the second time Yellow tried. Again they only managed to get a part of it onto shore before their arms grew sore again. Not to mention the slight lightheadedness from the strain. Yellow paused again, shaking out their limbs.
Some time passed before the sifaka took the cloth in their little hands and heaved again. The whole thing made it out this time, and they ran back and forth, laying the thing flat. It would be some time before it dried--but they had their kaleidoscope, and they could always sleep.
Yellow toyed with a fraying corner of the flag, wondering. Something had meant for them to have it--maybe? But why this thing, in particular, when it was so oversized compared to them? What was it for?
They could take it back to their roommates, Yellow supposed, although they weren't really sure how they were going to climb a tree with it. It was a little big to be tying onto their back. Maybe they should just leave it behind. But then I would've put all this effort in for nothing. And there had to be a reason for it--but what?
A symbol? they wondered, staring at the golden sigil at the center. It looked like some kind of maned predator, fierce and roaring. Vaguely feline, like Sebby.
Maybe they were grasping at straws, or maybe this really was a sign. Were they supposed to become fierce? Powerful, like Sebby? They liked being nice--but Sebby was nice. I bet he could beat any evil guy who comes along, though. Maybe they could be like that. Nice, but also powerful and the kind of person no one would bully. And they could... they could make the caves safe again. Somehow.
exit