[SPOILER]
We were going in circles. The belief was unshakable. Trouble was, with the Hekurians moving around below ground it was hard to be sure. They made new holes. New lumps. Forced previously buried rocks through the surface. It meant that even though there was definitely some vague familiarity with the passing scenery I couldn't quite memorise the distance between a rock and a root and expect to see it again. So I waited a while before mentioning it to Gethan.
"Possible," he said, "I do keep tripping on a very particularly shaped rock."
I scowled at him.
"Said in all seriousness," he assured me, "Besides. If you can tell one organ from another I'd trust you to recognise a reoccurring tree."
We looked around. The overcast sky muted colours and melded them together in shadows: trees blended into one another in dusky green and brown. Bracken, twigs and earth became one swathe of mottled brown. We passed a familiar rock.
"Bit of bandage, please, Pretty."
I arched a brow as I drew it out, pondering his intentions.
"It doesn't work for strangling."
"Not surprised you know that."
"Assassin jumped me in an ally. Was the only thing to hand."
"Liar."
"Alright, I shanked him."
"With a bandage."
"Don't be moronic. Bottle from the gutter."
He smirked and tore a small strip from the bandage, tying it securely around a branch of the nearest tree.
"I want that back," I warned.
"You will. If you're right, that is."
He stretched, moving off down the shambling ranks, typing strips to trees. And that was that. No relief from the sense of deja vu. But no sightings of bandages either. Bloody waste.
6/5/09. First draft.
We were going in circles. The belief was unshakable. Trouble was, with the Hekurians moving around below ground it was hard to be sure. They made new holes. New lumps. Forced previously buried rocks through the surface. It meant that even though there was definitely some vague familiarity with the passing scenery I couldn't quite memorise the distance between a rock and a root and expect to see it again. So I waited a while before mentioning it to Gethan.
"Possible," he said, "I do keep tripping on a very particularly shaped rock."
I scowled at him.
"Said in all seriousness," he assured me, "Besides. If you can tell one organ from another I'd trust you to recognise a reoccurring tree."
We looked around. The overcast sky muted colours and melded them together in shadows: trees blended into one another in dusky green and brown. Bracken, twigs and earth became one swathe of mottled brown. We passed a familiar rock.
"Bit of bandage, please, Pretty."
I arched a brow as I drew it out, pondering his intentions.
"It doesn't work for strangling."
"Not surprised you know that."
"Assassin jumped me in an ally. Was the only thing to hand."
"Liar."
"Alright, I shanked him."
"With a bandage."
"Don't be moronic. Bottle from the gutter."
He smirked and tore a small strip from the bandage, tying it securely around a branch of the nearest tree.
"I want that back," I warned.
"You will. If you're right, that is."
He stretched, moving off down the shambling ranks, typing strips to trees. And that was that. No relief from the sense of deja vu. But no sightings of bandages either. Bloody waste.
6/5/09. First draft.
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