out of sight

<blockquote>The sky was overcast, but it didn't matter. The falling sun was somehow more beautiful when it was harder to see; it made the brief thrill of catching a glimpse all the more powerful. Somehow, it was the things that she could not see that fascinated Trisden the most. Kiche was gone now, she knew that, but his stories had captivated her young mind. They had made her feel special. Now he was gone.

It didn't matter. The sun was gone too, behind a cloud, but it was still there at the same time - everything would be fine, it didn't matter that she couldn't see them.

<b>"Hocus,"</b> she called over her shoulder, distracted - but not enough to forget that he was with her, that she had to look after him. Everybody felt that they had to look after her, but she secretly knew it wasn't necessary. It was what they couldn't see inside her that was most important, her hidden strength that made her more than just a little girl. Hocus both understood and did not, at the same time, which made her laugh... but one day, when she was older, it would doubtless infuriate her. His insistence over being her 'big brother' was comforting and smothering at once.

But not today. Today he was just her friend. <b>"Hocus, look at that cloud. What does it look like to you?"</b></blockquote>

Kiche's departure hadn't affected Hocus nearly as much as it had Trisden, although the two were so closely linked that at times he wished that Kiche would come back just for her. His teachings had fascinated Hocus, although he could hardly see the point of worship. This entity could clearly not be swayed and so there was little point in trying to do so. He would be dutifully respectful to it, no sense to anger it, but he would hardly go out of his way to help it when it wouldn't help him.

Trisden's interest in it, however, kept him interested. She seemed weak and Hocus, quickly developing into one of the bulkier pups, had taken it upon himself to be her protector. Everyone else showed concern for her, but he felt he was one of the few who could truly protect her, if merely because she trusted him so. He was very patient with her, even during her tantrums, and she often got her way in an argument, but Hocus did not mind. The only thing he found annoying were her sporadic, metaphysical comments. Thus, when she asked what the cloud resembled, Hocus gave an internal sigh and cantered up to her.

<b>"It looks like a cloud,"</b> he said giving a small grin, aware that he was being deliberating obtuse. Truthfully, however, it really did look just like a cloud.

<blockquote>His reply should have been expected, but it tickled a nerve nonetheless. <b>"<i>You</i> look like a cloud,"</b> she snapped, but his self-aware grin was contagious, and she soon forgave him with a laugh. At least, mostly forgave him.

Her comment, said in irritation, made her stop and think. <b>"You kinda do, actually. All white and fuzzy at the edges."</b> She leant over to him and swiped her tongue over his cheek, smoothing the errant fur there. In doing so, she only started a chain reaction, for the newly-organised area stood out in comparison to the rest of him. <b>"Don't you ever clean yourself? If you're not careful you'll turn more into... into one of those."</b> This time she pointed at a more distant cloud, a grey and ominous one that wafted across the sky, no doubt dumping wetness on anyone unfortunate enough to stand underneath it. <b>"All, all murky and soggy and blergh."</b></blockquote>

Trisden's harsh tone made Hocus pull away, but when she relented, he came back with a grin. All was forgotten. Her pause, however, made him feel very conscious. He didn't like being looked at, nor being the centre of attention. Maybe that was why he hung around with Trisden. She managed to be the centre of attention merely by trying to be the centre of attention. It was an arrangement that worked for both parties. Not that Hocus was away that he was even doing this, he simply happened to like her for some reason.

<b>"I am not a cloud,"</b> he remarked sullenly, unsure where she was going with this. His affronted posture became only greater when she attempted to clean him. He gave a slight snarl at her, although he quickly forgave her with a reciprocated lick. At her insult, however, he felt it time to bite back. <b>"Well,"</b> he said with a grin, "<b> I'd much rather be a serious grey cloud that helped the plants than a useless wafty-thing that spent its time floating around."</b> Oh, burn.

<blockquote>He was so determined to be sensible. It was quite funny. <i>I am not a cloud</i>, well, honestly! There was no need to be so redundant. When he finally relented enough to remark about his preference in clouds, she gave a high bark of laughter, the images he had created floating around in her mind and all so ridiculous.

This had to be exploited.

<b>"Hocus!"</b> she mock-scolded, trying to emulate a parental voice even as she hopped about to face him. Bouncing onto her hind legs, she placed her paws on Hocus' shoulders and observed him with a critical eye for a moment. With a sudden cackle, she swiped her tongue against the fur on his forehead. Laughter got the better of her, and she rolled away from her creation, delighted with herself.

<b>"There - the fuzzy edges - now you look just like one!"</b> Leaping to her feet, she began to add insult to insult by poncing about, making her movements both ridiculous and airy as she cried breathily <b>"Look at me, I'm Hocus, the useless wafty-thing!"</b></blockquote>

Her emulation of parental authority was let down by her size and shrill tone. That said, however, it still managed to bring Hocus under some form of discipline. He did not complain, nor even flinch away, as she inspected him. Only when he felt the warm lick of victory, followed by the victor's cry of success, did he jerk away in anger.

Wishing he could see how foolish he looked, he desperately tried to rearrange his fur, although he could tell it was only getting worse. He wouldn't have minded if it weren't for Trisden's mockery.

<b>"You're useless and wafty,"</b> he bit back pathetically, deigning to lightly headbutt the ground until dust and dirt obliterated the smear to his visage, causing his voluem to rise and fall dramatically, <b>"what with all that creator stuff."</b>

(This post was last modified: Sep 04, 2011, 09:32 PM by Hocus.)

<blockquote>He didn't help end her laughter by overreacting to her attack on his image, because watching him paw at his forehead and then bash his head into the ground was all too hilarious to cope with. Such was her enjoyment, and his obscured speech, that she almost didn't catch his addendum.

It only dampened her spirits by a fraction, though she determined not to let it show too much. Letting the last of her giggles run their course, she came to face him with an expression of puzzled curiosity. <b>"What do you mean?"</b> It had been a long time since any of Kiche's stories, but she hadn't realised that Hocus was so negative about them. They had been interesting and quite overwhelming to consider, sure, but she had enjoyed listening and taking the lessons in. Nobody had really said much to the contrary. Why would Hocus suddenly be so offhand about it?</blockquote>

Hah, a weakness! Hocus reveled in victory only briefly, his brotherly affection quickly making him feel bad for insulting her beliefs. He too believed in what Kiche had said about this creator, it seemed plausible to him, but he saw no way of influencing it. It was capricious and unattainable, as far as he could tell, and there was no point in trying to make it otherwise.

<b>"You spend ages thinking about that stuff,"</b> he made a weird gesture with his head to try and indicate that 'stuff' meant philosophical mumbo-jumbo, mainly because he lacked the ability to find words for it. <b>"Why would this supreme-thing care about us anyway?"</b> Hocus slumped down against a tree, letting the bark scratch his back.

<b>"Shouldn't we just be- yh'know- doing stuff and not thinking all the time?"</b>

<blockquote>For some reason, Trisden felt personally insulted by his comments. She told herself that she wasn't that obsessed with it all, even though deep down the stories had touched her imagination. Now that Kiche was gone, she took care not to talk about it much - even so young, she got the feeling that nobody else really thought like he did - but that didn't stop her from taking the teachings to heart.

<b>"I think it's important, y'know, to... to think. It makes us <i>us</i> instead of, of clouds."</b> She smirked for a moment, pleased with her wit, but it didn't last long. <b>"Besides... it's nice to think that there's something there. Looking after father and Prosper and stuff."</b> She shrugged, turning away from him in order to slump down and not let him see her face. <b>"Since I can't <i>do</i> anything 'cept think about them. I miss them. I hope they're okay."</b></blockquote>

So Trisden's belief was based around hoping that the creator would help her? She was ambitious and, as one of the smaller pups, needed all the help she could get. Hocus, however, thought of the supreme being as something to be feared, avoided and placated. <b>"But surely It can make us into clouds, if it wanted?"</b> Hocus said, his voice falling away as he tried to come to terms with what he had said.

<b>"Y'know,</b> he said with a shrug and a scratch against the tree,trying to pretend that it didn't matter, <b>"if we made It angry or whatever, it might flatten us, or somefink."</b> Hocus had no idea how insensitive he was being, considering that both Prosper and his father were at the mercy of this beast. In fairness, it didn't cross his mind that much. He looked up to both of them so much that he had an unshakable certainty that they would be okay,provided they could stay on the Maker's good side.