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05-05-2017, 05:26 PM
Stellaluna...
Though itching to continue, the little bat’s focus is snagged by the mention of the moon - a goddess, which she doesn’t quite comprehend. Leather-wings spread apart and she parachutes down from on high, to the savagely twisted twisted arm of old Juniper; alighting carefully across the dull tree’s out-reaching palm (it rocks her gently for a minute before settling again to sleep), she fixes fine senses towards the giantess who lingered still beneath. “What’s a goddess?” The quizzical tenor of the question wafts like a free floating feather to earth - she craves knowledge, fantastic figures with which to decorate her world. The nuts, small, naked and deliciously plump; with incredulous gazes unhinged, begin to emerge between buttressed roots and hollowed out nests (both aerial and underground). Neither they nor she, share any knowledge of divinity. Indignant, disturbed from her slumber, Mrs Kookaburra (who ordinarily had a wonderful sense of humour), clicked loudly her sharp, hollow beak, and tucked its length beneath one wing. The tiny pup waits long enough to indulge upon the explanation, she is wrapt, stunned - also quite fond of the gently melodic waves of the voice that tells it (though it lacks true maternal caress, it reminds her largely of Ma). Afterwards, her inspired eyes strive towards heaven, or the pieces there to be seen through the swaying ceiling of the forest; there was no denying her desire to encounter the Moon, herself. Of course, her focus soon enough is lost to the night and the peculiar wilderness around her, that it cloaked. Like a moth unsettled, lured always by the flickering flame, she continues forward, dancing between juniper boughs (for coniferous ones, she now knows, are flimsy and naughty by nature), while the wind above sighs and the needle-leaves whisper. She comes up to a new thing then - long, pointed posts that glisten attractively whenever the cheeky starlight fills their midst. Inquisitively she stares along one row right, and then the other, left. For as far upwards as her cunning eye can see, they grow. Mr Numbat’s stripped tawny form slunk forward boldly from the thicket to investigate and he placed warm padded paws against the freezing, hard curve of one; instantly he recoiled, startled by the unexpectedness of the structure’s alien texture. “What's this?” …came the bat’s nervous next question. She was reluctant to pull any closer and waited, fidgeting, gaping, by the tree-line instead. "Turn on the dark, I'm afraid of the light!" |
@Lyanna :) There's no pressure from my part, I just had muse to spill
