Meadowlark Prairie i'm getting older

for @Qiao

She didn't stray too far from Vesper, but she did wander. Vesper seemed to have her own agenda, and Blueberry. . .

"Agenda" was too solid. Blue just—walked, until she could not any longer. She walked with the thought that steps could satisfy, but the growing distance only left her bereft. She strolled across the prairie with the notion that she could find herself, but she'd lost something along the way.

It was wrong. It was all wrong.

The girl stood upon a hillock, early winter winds buffeting her ivory fur, scanning the horizon with deep, slightly watery eyes.

The Redhawks could go fuck themselves, and so could her parents.

This was life.

She was alone.

from the pheasant, qiao pulled throat from spine and set it down. the spleen, heart, and left wing she ate. the stomach sack and remaining part of the bird was tucked to the greenbrier braid of her neck.

looking up, qiao saw something silhouetted against a long hill. a yearling, lithe of frame with windswept features. a girl, lost alone in the world.

qiao approached from behind with a soft voice. "good place to see everyone - the more you see, the fewer fangs in your back." 

placing down the peltskin, qiao extracted the bird. she pulled its right wing from it, placed the stomach in the middle of the laid out pelt, and then offered the remaining bird to blueberry. "hungry?"

She wasn't used to being out on her own. Well, she was, but safe within the confines of one home or another. Now she stood upon neutral ground, and she had forgotten to put her guard up.

Which is why, when the voice sounded somewhere close behind her, she shot upward like a startled cat.

Who— Blueberry whipped around to face a woman, perhaps her mother's age, with a plump bird in her mouth. Her stomach gurgled at the delectable smell that wafted toward her, but she was a stubborn girl, and at the question shot back, No.

She sniffed, regarding the stranger with a cool stare down her nose. Besides, I don't know you. You could've put some poison in there before I turned around.

Yeah, okay. But hey, she was the child of paranoid drug addicts—let's give her a pass on this one.

"hmm, you are a smart girl." qiao commended as the yearling startled and then refused the bird. truthfully, qiao had always favored those of her gender. this world was no place for little girls, and qiao was bitter for it.

she took a piece of the bird-meat and chewed it thoughtfully, taking mental inventory of blueberry. the girl was rakish and lean, carrying no scent of allegiance detectable to the seer. "it is good to never trust people you meet. i am qiao." she did not ask for a name in return -- either the girl would give it, or she would not -- qiao would not force it from her.

in this world, all little girls had was their name -- and even that could be taken from them.

the round pea-size stomach still sat upon the pelt, ugly in color. qiao rose and scanned the grass until she found a tooth of white stone. this she placed besides the stomach. "i think it is time i go. not now, but soon. but first --" qiao slipped the skull from its bond of greenbrier and placed her paws upon it.

then, she closed her eyes.

She mouthed the name, lips hanging in a quiet "o" as she observed. . .whatever the woman was doing. In her possession was a bedraggled piece of hide, and upon this she placed part of the innards and a—



What the fuck, Blueberry echoed, but there was no nervous laughter as she gazed upon the skull. Where did you get that? Why do you have it?

The girl had seen death, sure, but this skull looked a hell of a lot bigger than the ones she'd seen upon decaying prey.

What are you doing?! she demanded.

a shame, no name in return.

qiao's eyes fluttered open. understandably, the little dove was repulsed. three questions burned from the dove's tongue, each requiring very different answers.

with her paws still firmly placed atop the wolf skull's crown, qiao spoke. "when you learn to listen to the world, it speaks to you. i was listening."

she peered down at the object which had caused such horror. certainly, he had been much handsomer in life. now, in death, his skull appeared a grim talisman. "this is a skull." a thin smile cut across her expression like a knife before vanishing. "and you would not like the answer of how i came by it. so many questions, for such a young girl. may i continue?" qiao's tone seemed to brook no quarter, for her eyes were already closed and her ears silently swiveling.

That. . .didn't really answer her question. Nor did the other things—like, duh, she knew what a skull was—but Blueberry knew an authoritative tone when she heard one. Uh, okay, she said dubiously, and settled down, watching the woman intently.

When you learn to listen to the world, it speaks to you.

Blueberry could scarcely listen to the adults in her life, let alone the world. How could she possibly tune into something so vast, so far beyond her capacity to even understand?

When you learn to listen. . .

Maybe. . .she could hear the sea, if she listened carefully enough. It may have just been the murmur of her pulse in her ears, or the constant barrage of prairie wind at her face, but she. . .heard. . .something.

Her stomach growled again, and it brought her firmly back to the present. She glowered at the other stomach. Y'know, the dead stomach. (I'm really just trying to cover my ass writing "stomach" twice in one sentence.)

If she was a little more stupid, a little more desperate, she'd snatch it right up. How on earth could you waste perfectly good food like this?

to qiao’s surprise, the dove became quiet. the wind picked up and carried with it notes of the sea, of distant birdsong, of the absurd warble of a turkey.

but no song of her sisters - no nimble thread of fate to snatch between the weaving of reality’s beam.

in that moment, qiao heard the rumbling of the girl’s stomach. should have eaten. qiao informed her, rising from her crouch to carefully thread the greenbrier through each skull socket. bah, useless thing. i think i should go east. qiao picked up the peltskin and between gritted teeth offered it to blueberry. shake this, child — then throw it to the ground.

She made a scrunched-up, mocking face at Qiao when the woman remarked upon her audible belly, then straightened up. Wait, which way is that? she asked, because she was the worst wild animal ever, apparently not knowing her cardinal directions and all that.

Why? Blueberry asked, but she was already doing as she was told, taking the pelt from the still-strange-not-so-stranger and waving it wildly to and fro. She let it fall, and it cascaded—in an almost-beautiful tawny ruffle—to the earth.

She looked down for a moment, then back up to Qiao. And?

Her pale countenance was expectant, impatient.

"that way," qiao motioned to the distant hills. "the east is where the sun rises - except in dreams. then you should avoid east, it is your end." she hunched down and unfolded the peltskin, ripping stalks of dried grass and bare earth from the dirt and sprinkling it atop the stone and stomach. closing her eyes, qiao passed her paw over the contents, spoke a few strange words, and stood up.

"there are always eyes in the woods. this protects us from being seen." she plucked the pelt from the ground and shook it once, folding it over the rope of greenbrier before securing it to her neck. she did not have much energy left for these things - ah, if only she had snakeskin, or a quail's egg!

qiao left the bird, the stomach, and the stone. it was not until a few steps later she turned back and addressed the girl. "coming?"

Dreams. She pondered her dreams for a moment. They were amorphous things, dark and strange, with different familiar faces popping up at random intervals. She couldn't remember a sun in them, only night. But she nodded, anyway, feeling as if this woman knew what she was speaking of—or faked it really, really well.

Wait, she called out, looking at the artifacts, then at Qiao. Coming where? Do I have to carry this stuff along or something?

She was quite perturbed. Qiao was even more enigmatic than her own mother, which was saying something. She bit her lip. Blueberry regretted getting herself into this. She should have stayed near Vesper. By the Caldera. It would have been right.

Alas.

qiao would have been interested to learn the night reigned in the dove’s dreams. so much about the mind could be told from a single dream sequence. 

east, girl. qiao growled, pausing as she gave thought. hmm? the stomach? i wouldn’t touch it. the rest of the bird’s fine, though. she peered at the sun, then the tall timbers on the edge of the hillock. she would give blueberry enough time to scarf what she could of the meal, but then she was headed straight to the thicket.

Um. . .

She glanced down to the remnants of the woman's ritual, then back up to the near-retreating form. And then around, toward where she'd come from. She couldn't just leave; it wouldn't be right.

I can't, sorry, Blueberry said, and began to back away. My sister— um. Sorry. Good luck, wherever you're going.

Curiosity just about won out, but her loyalty to Vesper was stronger, and so she left the scene an ivory blur, catapulting herself across the prairie in search of the known, far from the unknown. 

If only she knew just how much of the unknown she would encounter soon enough.

I had fun!! Thank you for the thread

and like a wisp on the wind, the dove was gone, taking wing to a sister in some distant field. 

qiao peered after the darting form, her mouth moving in quiet whispers; a charmspell that the girl would be safe on her journey, and perhaps a whisper to the fates to pull their strings close together once again. 

then she too took to the road, fast as the receding blueberry in the opposite direction.