Post by karuna on Nov 8, 2012 3:45:32 GMT
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Blackness… in the lake again… no one here… dark… “Mmmmph…” from the lump of silver and black fur a low moan emanated. The noise frightened away a small crowd of black birds scattered all around the thing. They no longer had recognized it as a predator; it had been very still for a long time now. It was merely a piece of land, up until it had decided to cry out. “Dark,” it whimpered fearfully, jerking. The tone seemed to become clearer as the thing rose to the surface from sleep, but the words that came next were still very much muffled, almost slurred, barely recognizable despite their simplicity. “Sun… light...warm...” More clearly just after that, one word: “Burning.”
Am I alive? He was drowning, looking up through the crystal clear water up into the sun. The water retained the golden light from the sun, and it was hot, so hot, but terribly still around him, unmoving. He was bodiless. How was he drowning? He had no lungs. He breathed in. The water was dark, but it burned with the radiance of the light shining blindingly down upon him. He tried to paddle upward; he had no legs. He floated closer to the glistening surface, to the robin egg blue sky, through the dreamy water. It was growing darker, the closer the light got; he had no eyes, yet he saw this. The surface was closer, but he did not break it. He continued to float. “Dark…” Coldness ran through him; his body that was not a body jerked, and very suddenly, he was out of the lake and nowhere at all.
He lay dry and paralyzed in the shade of a tall, moss-covered tree. His amber eyes flashed open and took in the scene without any sense of recognition whatsoever. After several minutes, his muscles screamed and leaped of their own accord once more, causing him to spasm painfully; then he was in control again and he sat up and glanced around blearily. He had a body. He took inventory. My name is Fell, thought the thing; and it was. Fell yawned, all jaws with shiny white teeth and black and pink gums. I am a fox, thought Fell; and he was. I have just been sleeping. He looked down at the uncomfortable spot he had “chosen” to lay down in, noticing a tendril of thorns ending at the edge of the grass indentation in the dirt. I'll take care of those later. The area was well compressed, but that told him little as to just how long he had been sleeping; minutes, hours, days? Fell wracked his memory and recalled that the sun had just risen, last he remembered. Now it was in the middle of the sky; chances were good that at least a day had passed since he’d stopped here. He didn't know why, but he knew it had been longer than hours, when he thought of that.
What else did he know about himself? Static, the fox delved into his mind carefully. Things were still rather fuzzy. My mother’s name… Celeste. And he felt he could see the lovely, pale vixen in his head. This conjured a happy memory in his still dream-addled mind, but it was sharply interrupted by something else on the inventory: she’s dead. He nodded slightly to himself. He was four years old; Celeste had died when he was young, just a kit. He had other family, but he did not remember- no, that's not right, he did not want to think of them. Grimm… Roth. Brother... father. A little grimace played with the edges of his lips. Why? He didn't care to add it to the inventory. Family, he clarified silently, and then aloud, “Alive. Somewhere in Southern Hexasol." Lovers, and fights picked or challenges accepted, passed through his mind. The memories attached to each followed along, as though attached flimsily by strings; some golden, and happy, some filled with anger, lust, denial, sorrow. He tried not to linger on several.
Lingering exhaustion had cleared from the fog in his mind, and now he was sharpened and awake. The nap, however long it had been, had rejuvenated him thoroughly. Still, he knew he would probably be tired in a few hours. But regardless, Fell was back, in full swing. All he could not remember was what he had been doing before the sleep attack- but that was hardly important to him. He inspected his body, but did not find any evidence that he’d struggled with anyone; no cuts, bruises, scrapes, unidentifiable pains. No one was around; he was completely alone. That was pretty common, though. He had only awoken to find someone else there a few times, mostly when he was younger, and nearer to more populated land. There was only stiffness, and something else that he hadn’t noticed at first, attributing it to being underwater; his stomach ached.
The fact that he was extremely hungry made Fell rethink his estimate of how long he’d slept. Normally he didn’t eat all that much, so it may have been two days, even, since he’d been awake and fully functioning. It was times like this that he wondered whether he ought to have a companion to make sure he was protected during his sleep attacks. Someone who might stay with him and be able to tell him how long it had been. Maybe help him figure out why they occurred. Those were the only times he considered companionship, though. It was alright for a short time, but not permanently. Others always disappointed him.
ooc. first post ever! i am officially in love with fell. just for clarification, he has narcolepsy; that should explain this thread a little more, if you were confused. 927 words, listening to narcolepsy by third eye blind, open for anyone to join.
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