[DRBL] Zodiac Drabble(s)

[EchoLimaFoxtrot]

The Old Mountain (March 21 - April 20): There are seven stones standing in a wide, empty field.

The Mangrove (April 21 - May 21): A sweet doe sings a song of lost love.

The Twins (May 22 - June 21): The birds are out and curious despite the cold.

The Three Horn (June 22 - July 22): A great lake in the heart of the swamp is frozen over -- except at its very center.

The Hunter (July 23 - August 22): In the dream you turn and see no shadow behind you.

The Familiar (August 23 - September 23): Something about today's crisp, cold air makes it difficult to stop talking.

The Winged One (September 24 - October 23): Twelve stars form a constellation you've never seen before.

The Web (October 24 - November 22): An unexpectedly warm day encourages new exploration.

The Father Star (November 23 - December 21): Cooking a rejuvenating soup.

The Trickster (December 22 - January 20): You tell a lie, but it's okay, because it was a funny lie.

The Firefly (January 21 - February 19): Repeating the same line of a poem over and over, unsure how it ends.

The Half-Bloom (February 20 - March 20): Work is too hard, better to just lie down and take a nap.  

[EchoLimaFoxtrot]

( 4 ) The Three Horn A great lake in the heart of the swamp is frozen over -- except at its very center.

:: HERO ::

The ruffled buck limped along at a much slower pace than usual. It would seem that the cold snap that took over the Swamp had made it much more difficult on his hind leg. Sure, the leg was healed, but it always acted up a little more when the temperatures dropped to such levels.

"I sure hope it warms up soon, Adventure," Hero spoke down to the caiman following closely behind.

The reptile’s only response was to glare up at the buck. It was definitely struggling more in the cold, even more so without the aid of fur and hair.


"Oh, yeah," he said, looking ahead again. No matter how badly he thought he had it, his small companion had it worse right now.

H. Rrre. Rrrrp.

Hero stopped, cocked his head to the side, and when he heard the cry again he leaned down to grab Adventure’s tail and ran toward the sound. When he saw what was going on, the buck slid to a stop at the frozen shoreline.

It appeared to be a zikwa, stuck in the middle of the lake. The poor creature would thrash every once in awhile and call out, but it was obvious that the frigid temperature of the water was doing a number on its body. The thin skin of the zikwa was not very good protection.

After setting Adventure upright, Hero took a step out on the thin ice. His much larger size did not allow him to get even two strides before the ice started to crack and he had to retreat again.

"Just hang on!" He called out to the blind zikwa. The nearly-delirious creature stopped its panic and set about to conserve its failing energy.

Hero looked around, trying to find anything that might be of assistance. Branches were much too short, so he decided against looking for those – besides, any that might have been long enough would be far too heavy. The moss hanging from the trees would take far too long to braid together.

Walking a little further, Hero found a wonderful solution: a thick vine that crawled around multiple trees. He pulled on one, but it proved to be more brittle than usual and broke off. Trying a gentler approach on the next, Hero was able to pull a significant amount off the tree. He thought it would be enough, but he continued until he had a couple body-lengths more before tearing it from the rest.

Next, he had to drag it back to the lakeshore without it snagging or breaking again. His bad leg slowed him down, but this time it seemed that was the pace he needed to be successful. Hero got all of it to the shore with little event. Thankfully, the zikwa’s head was still above the water, and the buck sighed in relief that he wasn’t too late.

Adventure was still there, either from sympathy, as a look-out, or simply frozen to the spot. Hero, never afraid to put the caiman to work, thrust an end of the vine toward it with a simple command, "Walk this to the zikwa so I can pull it to safety!"

The caiman gave him a baleful eye but did as requested – jerking every so often to force more blood flow to already cramped limbs.

It was smooth work from there. Adventure successfully got the bark-like vine to the zikwa and scurried back to the shore before the ice could collapse under its small feet. Hero heaved and pulled, and was able to drag the soaking creature to the shore.

Everyone was exhausted and collapsed together on a bed of moss. Hero had to share his body heat, but he was more than happy to do so. Once the zikwa and caiman were heated enough a couple days later, Hero was able to scrounge up some food and nurse the zikwa back to health before it went on its way with a warning on the hazards of ice.  

[EchoLimaFoxtrot]

( 2 ) The Mangrove A sweet doe sings a song of lost love.

:: HEART SHATTER ::

Heart Shatter was relaxing in her usual pool of water. It was rather shallow and not that large, but it always seemed to her soothe her heart. The liquid clung to fur and skin, just as he used to do. She was just about to sink her head down under the chilly ripples when she heard a voice on the breeze.

Sitting up a little further, the doe turned her head to the side. She did not recognize the voice, of which she would probably only recognize his or that of her son, Hero. It did seem to be getting closer. Out of the corner of her eye, Heart Shatter saw her Phantom, a wraith-like foxbun that had taken up refuge in her own little grove. Phantom merely stared back as if to say she also had no idea of the imminent guest.

Before Heart Shatter could turn back, she saw the interloper walk into the open area, singing in a beautifully haunting voice, "… it fades out from kiss to kiss; For everything that’s lovely is But a brief, dreamy, kind delight. O never give the heart outright, For they, for all…" The doe stopped in her song, blinking at the disembodied head in the water. “Oh. Uhm.” At a loss for words, she couldn’t help but stare.

Heart Shatter stood, the sludge and film from her little pond sticking to her fur, giving her even more of an appearance of a swamp ghoul. Phantom didn’t help when she floated close to her mistress to assess the new arrival herself. “What were you singing about?” the aged doe could not help but ask. What little she heard of the song really moved her.

The doe chewed her cheek in indecision, not sure if she should share her woes. As she thought about it, she could not see the harm in telling a ghost. Smiling sweetly, she shared her story of falling in love with a kiokote. He could run faster than anyone else, and he always ran to her. His smile lit up her day and she never felt safer than when she was curled up next to him. Alas, he was taken from her by the twinkling eye and angelic laugh of another doe. He left her broken-hearted and alone, without even some little ones that she could love in his place. And now, she searched the wind for her own voice – because the song of her heart has been forever altered.

Heart Shatter listened to the grave tale, and for once was grateful that he had not abandoned her for another, and perhaps younger, piece of tail. No, it was the law of the swamp that took him from her, but in her heart she knows he will return for her some day…she just had to wait. But, for once, this was not about her. The doe would have left the full safety of her patch of comfort if she felt it would have helped. Instead, she stayed where she was and bowed her head as regally as she could manage with sludge dripping down her wavy locks.

“Go, young filly.” Heart Shatter met the young doe’s eyes with her own, “and find your one true love. He is out there, waiting for you. Do not waste your time pining for one that was not worth your heart.” And with that, she sank back into her pool and submerged her head as she had originally planned – blocking out the sounds of the cruel swamp.

The doe blinked again as if waking from a dream. The ghost had seemed to disappear, as well as the little foxbun. She was alone in the grove. Even if it all wasn’t real, she felt her heart stir a little in her chest with hope. Maybe she really would be okay, and maybe she could even find happiness again.

(poem exert Never give all the heart by W.B. Yeats… -30 words)  

[EchoLimaFoxtrot]

( 5 ) The Hunter In the dream you turn and see no shadow behind you.

:: FLEET FOOT ::

Fleet Foot shook herself from her dream. Over the years, she learned not to ignore them. Before the remnants could escape her, the kiokote though back to it to see if there was anything she missed.

Her hooves sank in the soft sand of the acha homelands. She had never been there, but her dreams never knew about the restrictions of memories. And this was a dream – Fleet Foot always knew that purely from the fact that she walked without a limp. Some days, it was tempting to never wake up and just stay in these dreams where she could live up to her namesake.

As her thoughts wandered, her golden eyes watched the scenery. It altered slowly and now there were moss-covered trees sprouting through the sands.

The mare paused to the sound of footsteps behind her. Turning, she expected to see her follower but there was nothing. Choosing to continue, she stepped in where the Swamp greeted her. Her invisible tail kept up, regardless of her pace. A branch snapped ahead of her and from the side. Fleet Foot saw a shadow, but as before it had no substance once her eyes focused. Not taking a chance, she went in the other direction. The scenery changed again and she was climbing up the rocks that she could never do in her waking moments. Another shadow passed over head, to join her entourage with the others. As before, when she looked up to get a better glimpse she only saw the cloudy skies that kissed the mountains’ tops. She saw an opening and took the first chance she got to escape her pursuers. The cave went deeper and deeper, until walls cried and she could not see the tip of her own nose. As expected, her followers were behind her the water dripped from their feet as they lifted their feet with each step. If it were even possible, she saw an area ahead where it was just a little darker. Of course, there would be another follower ahead. She turned, groping her way through the treacherous dark until she saw a light ahead.

Blinking in the uncovered sunlight, Fleet Foot’s heart beat even faster as she drank in the sight of her homeland. She hadn’t seen it since the Ache – and once she got to the Swamp she could not turn around and make the long trip home. The only consolation was that her little brother had followed the Ache to become her only family to join her where the Races came together. Tears gathered in her golden eyes and she drank in the sights she thought she would never see again. For whatever reason, she never returned in her dreams until now.

Without looking, Fleet Foot knew that all of the Hunters were behind her and they had been joined by one other. Confident, the mare was certain that each shadow represented each Race. They have all come together to create a world of great diversity, where legends became reality. So, if they were behind her – then what was that up ahead?