kassandra
What if this was how worlds were created, she wondered. What if, once upon a time, the empty heavens opened forth with holes pouring liquid, living black, and the worlds were made, and this land known as Novus—so strange to her once but slowly becoming home— was born, and some of it was studded with stars which became legs which became Tempus, and from Tempus came his children and the rest of what is considered acceptable and known history unfurled like a scroll. Furae was like this once, she was sure, though she was not there for its beginnings, only its end. There was a pang in her heart for the waste of life she left in her wake, a song of sorrow for her home, as horrible as it was; a shoe which fits poorly and painfully is still a shoe if there is no other shoe to be had.
Kassandra worried her maw together as she picked her way through the green fringes of the jungle, walking around its circumfrance as opposed to diving through the diameter. It was a strange, unfamiliar place, and she was hesitant to throw herself headfirst into more trouble, having almost died crossing Mors desert and escaping from the destruction of the only home ever known to her. She wanted to… coast for a moment, and live, rather than survive. Still, there was a creeping voice in the back of her head which told her to push forward; it was the part of her which secretly loathed being locked in her tower of folly for all of her life, the part aware of the existence beyond a cursed doll on an ivory shelf.
Oculos retained no such concerns about their new environment. His lithe figure disappeared between the emerald greenery moments ago— minutes? Hours, perhaps?— and Kassandra saw hide nor hair of him; she felt him, though, alive and healthy and not in duress, had an image of him digging his long nose into the underbrush and stopping to stare at the flashes of colorful birds caught by his impressive eyesight.
Kassandra intended to turn back to the water and away from the almost suffocating closeness of the jungle when she heard (‘Kass! Come check this out!’) called in the exuberant voice of her Bonded. Nostrils flaring with a stubborn but nervous breath, Kass forced herself under some vines, ducking and lifting her head to lift them out of the way, and began the slow, but steady, journey towards the voice of her constant companion; she took gentle steps to avoid crushing any petals, pistils, or tendrils.
She approached what appeared to be a small clearing, where the ground was covered with beautiful, strange flowers, and the foilage above arched high overhead. Kassandra poked her head forward and immediately doubled back, retching. The most foul stench to grace her nose— worse, even, than the burning, smoldering, sulfuric breaths of dying Furae, fuming up her nostrils when she looked back— knocked her almost prone in the dirt. It was sweet, rancid rotting flesh. Her mind jumped to images of black meat sloughing away from yellowed bone.There was a sound of moving brush and through her watering eyes she saw a black, white-pointed shape writhing atop one of the large, orange flowers.
(‘Look— at—this—!’) Oculos— for it was him— panted as he finished each wriggle, twisting himself into comma shapes on the plants in the dirt. Golden pollen was clinging to his shaggy fur and when he stood and shook himself Kassandra realized the horrific smell came from the blooms— and now, thoroughly and indubitably, from him.
(‘Isn’t this place excellent?’) Oculos beamed, padding over to her with long sighthound legs. His tongue, clung to by bits of yellow, hung languidly from his mouth and he smiled up at her in his canine way. (‘This is the most amazing smell I’ve ever smelt! I couldn’t find something dead better to roll in.’)
“There were many dead things in the desert,” Kassandra said, her voice soft and sad, as she turned her nose away from him.
(‘Sure, dead and dry and dusty. This is… fresh and juicy!’) He yelped loudly, a noise of barely contained excitement.
“Please don’t say it like that,” Kassandra asked, a shudder rolling through her. She shook her star-studded pelt and internally begged the horrific smell— and her best friend— to wander away.
(‘Come have a sniff!’) Oculos chirped, trotting away past the small grove of rancid blooms and deeper into the jungle.
“I’d rather die,” Kassandra said, but her voice was swallowed by the pressing heat and overwhelming greenness.
Oculos disappeared once again and all at once Kassandra wished he was back, horrific smell be damned. “Ocky?” she nickered, a gentle sweetness come back to her voice, and she tread forward again, though she gave Oculos’ beloved flowers a wide berth.
She sidestepped a cluster of white flowers which looked peculiarly liked fanged teeth and realized she no longer remembered which way was out. A glance over her shoulder revealed the jungle already bending backwards to cover her trail. “O-Oculos?” she tried again, louder, shaky with apprehension. Her pelt began to tremble with suppressed nerves, and she willed herself onward, willed herself to not lock up in fear.
Something bright and blue beamed above her, shaking the higher boughs and filling the stifling jungle with a sudden noise above the constant drone of life. Kassandra yelped and started, bolting. Her legs shredded low-laying leaves and vines and clusters of hanging moss clung at her neck and throat, choking her with slight pressure before her momentum ripped through them.
Kassandra stumbled on the unknown path, squawking with unabashed surprise. She hit the turf with an undignified oof, rolled one complete circle, bumped down a small, dirt step formed where a tree root pushed the ground upward, and came to a stop on her left side, smudged with loamy earth, wrapped in thin, pea-like tendrils, carrying leaves and stray petals in her mane.
She huffed her thick forelock out of her eyes and blinked. Before her was a figure, earthy colored in his own right, but clad in… in clouds? “Oh. Hullo,” she murmured, dazed, and more than a bit confused.
Kassandra worried her maw together as she picked her way through the green fringes of the jungle, walking around its circumfrance as opposed to diving through the diameter. It was a strange, unfamiliar place, and she was hesitant to throw herself headfirst into more trouble, having almost died crossing Mors desert and escaping from the destruction of the only home ever known to her. She wanted to… coast for a moment, and live, rather than survive. Still, there was a creeping voice in the back of her head which told her to push forward; it was the part of her which secretly loathed being locked in her tower of folly for all of her life, the part aware of the existence beyond a cursed doll on an ivory shelf.
Oculos retained no such concerns about their new environment. His lithe figure disappeared between the emerald greenery moments ago— minutes? Hours, perhaps?— and Kassandra saw hide nor hair of him; she felt him, though, alive and healthy and not in duress, had an image of him digging his long nose into the underbrush and stopping to stare at the flashes of colorful birds caught by his impressive eyesight.
Kassandra intended to turn back to the water and away from the almost suffocating closeness of the jungle when she heard (‘Kass! Come check this out!’) called in the exuberant voice of her Bonded. Nostrils flaring with a stubborn but nervous breath, Kass forced herself under some vines, ducking and lifting her head to lift them out of the way, and began the slow, but steady, journey towards the voice of her constant companion; she took gentle steps to avoid crushing any petals, pistils, or tendrils.
She approached what appeared to be a small clearing, where the ground was covered with beautiful, strange flowers, and the foilage above arched high overhead. Kassandra poked her head forward and immediately doubled back, retching. The most foul stench to grace her nose— worse, even, than the burning, smoldering, sulfuric breaths of dying Furae, fuming up her nostrils when she looked back— knocked her almost prone in the dirt. It was sweet, rancid rotting flesh. Her mind jumped to images of black meat sloughing away from yellowed bone.There was a sound of moving brush and through her watering eyes she saw a black, white-pointed shape writhing atop one of the large, orange flowers.
(‘Look— at—this—!’) Oculos— for it was him— panted as he finished each wriggle, twisting himself into comma shapes on the plants in the dirt. Golden pollen was clinging to his shaggy fur and when he stood and shook himself Kassandra realized the horrific smell came from the blooms— and now, thoroughly and indubitably, from him.
(‘Isn’t this place excellent?’) Oculos beamed, padding over to her with long sighthound legs. His tongue, clung to by bits of yellow, hung languidly from his mouth and he smiled up at her in his canine way. (‘This is the most amazing smell I’ve ever smelt! I couldn’t find something dead better to roll in.’)
“There were many dead things in the desert,” Kassandra said, her voice soft and sad, as she turned her nose away from him.
(‘Sure, dead and dry and dusty. This is… fresh and juicy!’) He yelped loudly, a noise of barely contained excitement.
“Please don’t say it like that,” Kassandra asked, a shudder rolling through her. She shook her star-studded pelt and internally begged the horrific smell— and her best friend— to wander away.
(‘Come have a sniff!’) Oculos chirped, trotting away past the small grove of rancid blooms and deeper into the jungle.
“I’d rather die,” Kassandra said, but her voice was swallowed by the pressing heat and overwhelming greenness.
Oculos disappeared once again and all at once Kassandra wished he was back, horrific smell be damned. “Ocky?” she nickered, a gentle sweetness come back to her voice, and she tread forward again, though she gave Oculos’ beloved flowers a wide berth.
She sidestepped a cluster of white flowers which looked peculiarly liked fanged teeth and realized she no longer remembered which way was out. A glance over her shoulder revealed the jungle already bending backwards to cover her trail. “O-Oculos?” she tried again, louder, shaky with apprehension. Her pelt began to tremble with suppressed nerves, and she willed herself onward, willed herself to not lock up in fear.
Something bright and blue beamed above her, shaking the higher boughs and filling the stifling jungle with a sudden noise above the constant drone of life. Kassandra yelped and started, bolting. Her legs shredded low-laying leaves and vines and clusters of hanging moss clung at her neck and throat, choking her with slight pressure before her momentum ripped through them.
Kassandra stumbled on the unknown path, squawking with unabashed surprise. She hit the turf with an undignified oof, rolled one complete circle, bumped down a small, dirt step formed where a tree root pushed the ground upward, and came to a stop on her left side, smudged with loamy earth, wrapped in thin, pea-like tendrils, carrying leaves and stray petals in her mane.
She huffed her thick forelock out of her eyes and blinked. Before her was a figure, earthy colored in his own right, but clad in… in clouds? “Oh. Hullo,” she murmured, dazed, and more than a bit confused.
kassandra oculos | 1,040 words | @IPOMOEA Kassandra falls in!
