@Makan feel free to post once + add whatever you'd like to this <3
A shadow following a ghost —and oh, all the things they could see! She would show him now, the way a woman could fade into the world. The way a man could lose himself to life. It was easy.
That first morning saw them through wetlands, a wild and unwelcoming place. Manea coasted featherlight over the muddy knolls, deft paws finding paths along fallen trees and soft beds of ferns and flattened cattails. Not once did she stir the turbid waters.
Nor did she stir the birds from their perches. All around they worked and sang and shrieked to one another, never sparing a glance for the ghost or the shadow. Who would? She lingered among their bright colors and bright songs only a little while. There was so much more to be seen.
High noon brought heavy, wet footfalls to her ears; ursine, the wind told her, and perhaps the ghost did bristle a little then. Yet the bear never saw them, nose buried in a bush laden with dark berries. Manea only watched for a time, watched half-crushed berries falling to the ground and a daring squirrel skirting round to the far side of the bush. It felt as if a small eternity passed that way.
Then the bear was gone, and then dusk upon them, and coyotes yipping and prancing at play. This time Manea followed, all smiles and waving tail at the sight of their joy. They never looked at her. Eventually her smile faded.
But there was always more to see.
August 30, 2024, 10:06 AM
the plains bled into marshland.
the ghost moved just as her title implied. he did not see the water stir around her, it did not kick up in muck sprays along her underside and legs. but it did for him. it only made him look like a figure of tar as they went. it helped that his limbs were long, thin like branches to sweep through the uneven land.
ursine.
it did not worry over two travelers as it feasted upon its sweet meal. makan watched it with some balanced level of amazement and caution. what must it be like to be such a force of nature? to be so strong that it did not spare more than a glance to them? was it by creation or by confidence? he would never know.
in the absence of a bear was the cacophony of coyotes. they, too, did not worry over the ghost and shadow. makan looked at them in a longing manner as if he had peered into someone's window. how they danced with one another, how they tended to each other with delight. he admired the strength of their voices. although he may not have understood what exactly they said to one another between loud sounds, he knew he would have felt jealousy there too.
jealousy.
oh, that was it, wasn't it? the root of his dissatisfaction and his continued cycle of disappointment.
jealousy.
he did not know what to do with this newly discovered piece of himself. only that he had it now and looked upon it as if he held a smooth stone. he could not dally, though. the ghost moved on and he must shadow her still. his steps were lighter, quicker.
where to next?
the ghost moved just as her title implied. he did not see the water stir around her, it did not kick up in muck sprays along her underside and legs. but it did for him. it only made him look like a figure of tar as they went. it helped that his limbs were long, thin like branches to sweep through the uneven land.
ursine.
it did not worry over two travelers as it feasted upon its sweet meal. makan watched it with some balanced level of amazement and caution. what must it be like to be such a force of nature? to be so strong that it did not spare more than a glance to them? was it by creation or by confidence? he would never know.
in the absence of a bear was the cacophony of coyotes. they, too, did not worry over the ghost and shadow. makan looked at them in a longing manner as if he had peered into someone's window. how they danced with one another, how they tended to each other with delight. he admired the strength of their voices. although he may not have understood what exactly they said to one another between loud sounds, he knew he would have felt jealousy there too.
jealousy.
oh, that was it, wasn't it? the root of his dissatisfaction and his continued cycle of disappointment.
jealousy.
he did not know what to do with this newly discovered piece of himself. only that he had it now and looked upon it as if he held a smooth stone. he could not dally, though. the ghost moved on and he must shadow her still. his steps were lighter, quicker.
where to next?
non-verbal
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