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Madison Scott-Clary 2024-01-18 19:20:13 -08:00
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writing/post-self/motes/009.html
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<p>Warmth made an array of its best guesses at Artemisian food, some of which were quite tasty. Few who tried the fluffy tower of <em>frahabrodåt</em> went back for seconds, at which ey seemed quite proud.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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 they lean down so that she could give them nose-dot kisses.</p>
<p>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. </p>
<p>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 <em>lived</em> her gratefulness for Dry Grass&rsquo;s presence.</p>
<p>And then, when they all piled into the movie-theater-<em>cum</em>-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.</p>
<p>And then, when they all piled into the movie-theater-<em>cum</em>-cuddlepit, A Finger Pointing, Beholden, and Dry Grass slouched into a beanbag. Dry Grass dragged Motes 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.</p>
<p>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, &ldquo;Hey, kiddo. I would like to apologize for everything that happened this month.&rdquo;</p>
<p>Motes scrubbed her paws over her face to wake up more fully. &ldquo;How do you mean?&rdquo;</p>
<p>&ldquo;All of that wretched business with my down-tree.&rdquo;</p>