Яikyn

The spring had started to take on an importance to me; the time of my birth, and the earning of Duir’s orb, had fallen in Birdsong, and my father had died with the first appearance of this year’s blooms. Perhaps it was just coincidence, I think, because I’d done things in the snow and falling leaves, too, or in the verdant green of summer, but, for some reason, I couldn’t shake the notion that, for me, anyway, the big things might just, you know, have a schedule.

Maybe it’s ludicrous; it’s still better than dwelling in death, and sadness. Though I still get stolen away by the heavy, heavy ache inside myself, I am finding more and more moments that I can be myself again, living in the moment. When I take the time to think about the big picture, like my Birdsong ordained growing periods, it makes it easier to forget about all the shadows in the frame.

I guess that’s part of why we’ve come here, of all places. I don’t come here a whole lot, mostly because it gives me the faintest sense of the creeps, as if some pack of wolves is watching me from between the bamboo stalks (gee, I wonder why). Regardless, on the outskirts of this very green, very confusing region is where I had kept Duir’s orb safe, and warm, as it was not far from where the golden lights had given him to me, and now that he had grown in a full set of antlers, and looked truly like a deer, not a fawn, I guess nostalgia, and a need to be where good memories were, have guided us to the Rift’s Bamboo Labyrinth.

All the green makes my buck excited as soon as he sees it, scampering ahead of me. When he stops, however, I quickly jog to catch up, peering down at whatever it is he’s looking at.

A bemused smile strikes my face at the image before me. A raccoon, gluttonous on the best of days, seems to have eaten himself into some sort of stupor. Some sort of brown, sticky stuff is smeared all over his face… presumably from the similarly colored (and scented) sugary thing in his little black paws. A secret part of me really, really likes cute, fuzzy creatures, and though I’m loath to admit it, I like the little guy, almost instantaneously.

"You alright down there?" I ask, sharing an amused glance with Duir, before looking back down at the chocolate engorged raccoon.

there's no place to hide down here