Dragonfly Fen Ain't Nothin' if It Ain't Free

It was a morning like any other, or at least she had expected it to be. Another day of restless pacing around the strange forest with walls, another day attempting to escape. Mud Next to River had made good progress on one of her holes and had fully intended to take the day and continue her attempted jailbreak. Instead she woke in a new place, in one of the strange metallic cages. Birds loudly sang their morning song and MNtR drowsily blinked her eyes. If she was to be in the cage today, then instead of trying to claw her way out, she’d bite at the bars. It had always hurt her teeth to do so, but she was desperate. Eventually she had blinked away the sleep and was ready to get to work. She stood, stretched, then took a few steps forward to begin a day of mindless metal biting.

But there was… an opening? Her ears stood erect, sniffer sniffing curiously as she took slow, cautious steps forward. She could step out into the open, into a place that smelled new and strange. Mud Next to River paused in the open forest, finding no walls, no barricades, no smell of the strange, two legged creatures beyond the cage itself. Her ears pinned against her skull and ever so slowly the realization began to creep in. She was free. She took another step forward, the grass crunching quietly under her paws. The young girl looked back to the cage and then ahead to the open, boundless forest.

She was free!

The second time the realization hit her so hard that she did the only thing she could think of to do. Mud Next to River ran. There were no borders here, nothing but the infinite world ahead of her. She ran until her legs ached, she ran through thorny shrubs, she disturbed birds of all kinds. A deer fled away from her, fearing that it had been intended for her next meal.

Finally, with the cage far behind her, with her life as a prisoner gone, she collapsed to the ground. Unable to hide the genuine joy that gushed through her soul, Mud Next to River laughed. Rolling around in the grass, she pressed her face firmly into the dirt and took in the beautiful scent of freedom. Her guffaws boomed through the forest. It felt so good to laugh, it felt so good to be un-tethered.

Suddenly the laughter didn’t seem too much like laughter. Hot tears blurred her vision, quickly spilling over and staining her dark cheeks. The world grew quiet for little Mud Next to River as she laughed and cried and laughed and cried.

@Mud Next to River

Ridge had resumed his isolation once he made it through the mountain tunnels. He was persistent in avoiding others despite not knowing where he was. A part of him did not want to know, as he had begun to grow comfortable in the haze that consumed him. Occasionally he would dream, flashes of what he presumed was a past life, but nothing stuck. They would disappear with the night, and the same dreams would never occur more than once.

This place, however, felt like one of his dreams, but he couldn’t be sure. Whenever he tried to focus on the dream his mind would grow darker and darker, disappearing into a shade of black that did not have a name. He frowned as he continued forward and ignored the ache in his paws. Despite the uncertainty of the mountain tunnels—with the dead ends and many twists and turns—he had welcomed the cool ground against his weary paws. Now that he had returned to the uneven, unpredictable terrain the pain had returned. His body was trying to tell him that it was time to stop, but Ridge refused. He would stop when he was ready.

Or, when the sound of another coerced him into pressing pause.

A frown creased his features as he stepped toward the sound of laughter? Crying? He couldn’t tell. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he should be approaching the stranger, but something deep in his gut pushed him forward.

Are you alright? he asked once the mud-coloured girl was within sight, his frown still etched across his pale maw.

(This post was last modified: Jun 06, 2021, 04:26 AM by Sachiel.)

ridge is a mature character

aka he curses a lot due to his frustation with his memory loss

x

ridge associates colours with moods/feelings & uses them to describe others