The next step was in Eridanus. And I mean this in both a literal and metaphorical sense. The next person stepping... would be in Eridanus. And Eridanus, or whatever, or
whoever was in Eridanus would be... I think you understand the point now.
Yes, trundling through the dense foliage of Eridanus were they, seeking something out. Or maybe it was routine. Stretching limbs was a smart idea after any lengthy nap, and checking out other gardens was an intellectual play before starting one. Not that Ampelio
needed to start one. They had one. A big one. Not as big as that mushroom though. Nothing was as big as that mushroom. Pelly couldn't make anything as big as that mushroom. ....That didn't feel right. Anyways.
What they sought? What each step led towards? All one goal, but in the acute scheme of things: scents and smells. Pelly had... something of an idea, coursing through their mind. One that would carry all the others. It was like... less complex than you might think. A simple system of communication, simpler than letters, or even sounds, or whatever was probably going down underneath that mushroom. And not a form of
public communication, more a private recording system. Like notes. A comprehensive... compendium... of notes! Notes about dreams. Eridanus was like Target. Pelly needed a dream journal.
Scents and smells, they had realized soon upon waking up and talking to their dad, were a good way to... remember things. Dreams were prone to forgettance, quite like a Tobie they knew. Thus, they sought to connect these pairs of dots in an intricate, sniff-based web, and that meant getting lots and
lots of fresh flowers.
Hence the snuffling and the pawing and the perplexed looks and the trundli— hey why are we at the really big mushroom.
Pelly couldn't stop staring at it. Eventually their paws just twisted the path on their own, called the mushroom a "viable flower", and did not alert Pelly until they were stuck patrolling its perimeter, orbiting its circumference like a satellite. Little did they know, the giant already had a moon, tide-locked, set in that same path of motion. Only in the eclipse do the planets ever get... to talk, I guess.
Except Pelly did not want to make even the slightest peep when they saw the bundle of stripey, fluffy fuzz, only identifiable as "person" from the rise and fall of the chest, and the oddity of the figure. They don't make regular old rabbits like that. No, Pelly did not want to breathe loudly or speak softly, but they did want to smile! To giggle, even. It was a temptation resisted, for the snoozer's sake... Pelly's smile was not any form of
pleasantry. Plus, they had an even better idea.
This other creature was like color in repose under the mushroom. It reminded Pelly of something, which then made Pelly think of forgetting, which then made Pelly think of flowers. Then: idea.
Devious idea. Perhaps even... prank?
Ohohohoho! Little moon, you know not what you are in for!!
They set to work, trundling back through the various
*~legumes~* and flora and whatnot, giggling ever-so-quietly all the while (had to get it out somehow, such is the way of nefarious villeins). They gathered flowers of a certain ilk: white lilacs, bright yellow poppies, dandelions old and new, and for the finishing touch... a single purple agapanthus flower. They then returned, and swiftly summoned every increment of floristry latent in their genetics.
Prank... begin!
A few minutes of turmoil and tribulation passed before Ampelio dared to call it quits. They were perhaps too loud, too brash, too bold in their design, and in their movements. But a work of TRUE art finds value within every passerby, that is the only test, no other judgement will fair. Hopefully the critter would still be asleep long enough to later wake up and witness Pelly's artistry.
It was... well, kind of like how pancakes look when you're just starting to learn how to make them. Floppy, sloppy, mostly practical and nothing more, but the
idea remains, grandiose and impending, retaining, despite everything, its dignity, and even... its
beauty. Somewhere in that massive upheaval of petals that skirt the breeze like little speckles of ill-timed snow, somehow buried among those droopy bouquets of white and bright yellow, there is the phantasmal dream of a beautiful, golden pancake. And maybe an actual real one in there too, you never know (Pelly made quite a mess).
The unfortunate twister of stems and petals did manage to swirl around the creature in a way one might consider truly elegiac. Put a white lily in there and you're just about ready for a funeral, and not just for the ecosystem. Hopefully this one didn't have pollen allergies.
Placing the purple agapanthus at the food of the "prank", Ampelio stepped back and perceived, in its full glory, the message they had created. Maybe it was the Tobie or the Mercy within that made them so delighted, even by their failure. It was a prank! It was still a prank! It could still function as a prank. Or a message, much simpler than letters or sounds, or whatever was probably going down underneath their feet right now. A message, from the universe that watched, the universe that cared! A message that, once sneezed upon, unraveled, whatever... once opened, at last, it would read:
"Dear hay bale at the foot of the mushroom,
Pelly wuz here."
It left Pelly pleased enough to think:
'Yeah. That's a pro gamer move,' before finally turning away to ostensibly continue with flower collecting. In truth, they went to hide behind a rather conspicuous bush, and watch for a reaction.
@Cairn
