update from sparkleup

writing/post-self/motes/009.md

@@ -22,7 +22,7 @@ She shrugged and picked at the rock with a claw, worrying loose a thin chip of f
 
 She laughed and threw the chip of rock at him. "That is not *not* true. I guess it is extra true, actually, since most of my time away was spent talking." She tried to scratch up another chip, but she seemed to have lucked out that first time. "Sorry I just disappeared a while back."
 
-"Yeah, I was worried. I thought you got hurt bad. What happened?"
+"Yeah, I was worried. I thought you got hurt real bad. What happened?"
 
 She hesitated, averting her gaze to look out into the park around her, the park she had claimed as her domain not half an hour before. "I got a high priority ping that made me fall, and then I hit my face on that stupid dome."
 
@@ -42,7 +42,7 @@ Alexei screwed up his face in a wince. "Double-ew. So were you in trouble? Are y
 
 Motes giggled. "I mean, I guess so. Big Motes understands it better, but she is busy."
 
-This had long ago become a hint to drop into conversations that to continue would be to break the illusion, to pull back the curtain and expose the play for what it was: merely a performance.
+This had long ago become a hint to drop into conversations that to continue them would be to break the illusion, to pull back the curtain and expose the play for what it was: merely a performance.
 
 Neither of them, neither of these two consummate performers, wanted that. Alexei could probably pry it out of her, pry out all of the details of all that had happened — and she may yet send him a letter as Big Motes for more context later — pry her out of this space for a little bit if he wanted.
 
@@ -66,7 +66,7 @@ She frowned. "I know, but I want to know. I just got back from two weeks of frea
 
 "Please?"
 
-"Hmf."
+"Hmph."
 
 "Pretty pleeease?" she whined. "With a cherry on top?"
 
@@ -98,7 +98,7 @@ She laughed. "Some of us. Some of us drifted apart, but some of us stick togethe
 
 Motes sighed. "I guess, yeah. That is why it hurt and why I had to spend a lot of time thinking about it."
 
-He reached out and gave her tail a gentle tug — not something she usually tolerated, but the conversation had been so gentle, it had not scent of meanness to it — and smiled up to her. "Well, *I* think you're better than she is, so clearly she isn't you. Tell her to get stuffed!"
+He reached out and gave her tail a gentle tug — not something she usually tolerated, but the conversation had been so gentle, it had no scent of meanness to it — and smiled up to her. "Well, *I* think you're better than she is, so clearly she isn't you. Tell her to get stuffed!"
 
 She laughed, reaching out to bat at his hand. "I guess I pretty much did, because here I am!"
 
@@ -112,21 +112,21 @@ Beholden grilled hot dogs and bratwurst and Motes, yes, had them loaded up with
 
 Ioan grilled *frigărui,* kebabs loaded up with Carpathian seasonings, and *mititei,* a quick sausage.
 
-Warmth made an array of its best guesses at Artemisian food, some of which were quite tasty.
+Warmth made an array of its best guesses at Artemisian food, some of which were quite tasty. Few who tried the fluffy tower of *frahabrodåt* went back for seconds, at which ey seemed quite proud.
-
-Few who tried the fluffy tower of *frahabrodåt* went back for seconds, at which ey seemed quite proud.
 
 Motes ate it all. She ate herself overfull. She ate herself messy, leaving her shirt dotted with mustard and grease, her lips shining with the oily sheen of at least three different types of sausage.
 
 Thus sated, she darted around the gathering, the thirty or so people who had showed up from both within the clade and without. She hugged everyone who wanted a hug, chased Warmth in multiples, the two little skunks leapfrogging each other and leaving their fur and clothes stained green with with grass. She drank a few margaritas, allowing through only a modicum of the drunkenness so that she remained cognizant and present through the tipsiness, awake and alert through the haze.
 
+She wove around A Finger Pointing and Beholden, drawing figure eights around these anchors of her life with wanderings of herself, trailing love and affection as she went, demanding that they dote upon her, that the lean down so that she could give them nose-dot kisses.
+
 And then, as she had several times over the last week, she latched herself onto Dry Grass. As they had over the last week, they revelled in the closeness and affection, the joy in allowing themselves to be around each other despite meaningless admonitions. As they had, they spoke mostly of small things, of interesting things they had seen or nice foods that they had eaten or simple stories made up on the spot. 
 
-It was important to her that she be around this person she considered a member of her family. One of the close ones, not one of the distant ones, not one that had cut her off. It was important that they spend quality time together, that by that time she live her gratefulness for Dry Grass's presence.
+It was important to her that she be around this person she considered a member of her family. One of the close ones, not one of the distant ones, not one that had cut her off. It was important that they spend quality time together, that through that time, she *lived* her gratefulness for Dry Grass's presence.
 
-And then, when they all piled into the movie-theater-*cum*-cuddlepit, Dry Grass slouched into a beanbag and dragged the skunk into her lap. They sat silent through the movie, watching off and on, dozing now and then. The movie was not important. It was good, she was sure, but that was not the point.
+And then, when they all piled into the movie-theater-*cum*-cuddlepit, A Finger Pointing, Beholden, and Dry Grass slouched into a beanbag, Dry Grass dragging the skunk into her lap while they all settled in. They sat silent through the first part of movie, watching off and on, dozing now and then. The movie was not important. It was good, she was sure, but that was not the point.
 
-An hour or so later, Dry Grass set up a cone of silence over the beanbag and nudged Motes to sit beside her rather than on her and said, "Hey, kiddo. I would like to apologize for everything that happened this month."
+An hour or so later, after Beholden and A Finger Pointing had dozed off together amid all the softness, Dry Grass set up a cone of silence over the beanbag and nudged Motes to sit beside her rather than on her and said, "Hey, kiddo. I would like to apologize for everything that happened this month."
 
 Motes scrubbed her paws over her face to wake up more fully. "How do you mean?"
 
@@ -150,9 +150,9 @@ There was another moment of silence, of Dry Grass furrowing her brow and thinkin
 
 They stayed like that for the rest of the film, Dry Grass petting Motes and Motes telling Dry Grass stories about the day, little nothings that showed that fun, that lack of pain.
 
-And then, when the movie was over and many of those in the community center had started to doze on their beanbags and couches, when Dry Grass fell asleep one too many times and begged off to go back home — not without yet another tight hug from Motes and a promise to be back soon — when Motes herself started to get sleepy, she disentangled herself from the rest of that dozy comfort and slipped out into the cool of the night.
+And then, when the movie was over and many of those in the community center had started to doze on their beanbags and couches, and her ma and Bee put kisses on her snout and left arm in arm, when Dry Grass fell asleep one too many times and begged off to walk back home — not without yet another tight hug from Motes and a promise to be back soon — when Motes herself started to get sleepy, she disentangled herself from the rest of that dozy comfort and slipped out into the cool of the night.
 
-Rather than turning left off toward home, she turned right to the other arm of the 'U' that made up the neighborhood and started wandering through the grass until she hit the sidewalk. There, vines in chalk blossomed lazily behind her footsteps, and in the night, in the light of the stars and the moon and the streetlamps, they seemed to glow in pale oranges and whites and blues. She played with them by taking wobbling, drunken steps, crossing one leg in front of the other, pirouetting clumsily to make them tie themselves into knots.
+Rather than turning left, off toward home, she turned right to the other arm of the 'U' that made up the neighborhood and started wandering through the grass until she hit sidewalk. There, vines in chalk blossomed lazily behind her footsteps, and in the night. In the light of the stars and the moon and the streetlamps, they seemed to glow in pale oranges and whites and blues. She played with them by taking wobbling, drunken steps, crossing one leg in front of the other, pirouetting clumsily to make them tie themselves into knots.
 
 Even so, she continued down around the slow curve of the neighborhood's main street, not bothering to venture into any of the cul-de-sacs. The chalk lines were fun, a little trail describing where the little skunk had wandered, but she *was* tired. It had been a long first day back as Little Motes, and she had successfully packed it to the brim with all that she had wanted to do, and that success gave to her a sense of rightness.