From 3e018498dfc5a86c1442f313b16b9b1f70b61583 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Madison Scott-Clary Date: Mon, 11 Sep 2023 12:05:11 -0700 Subject: [PATCH] update from sparkleup --- writing/post-self/marsh/004.html | 4 ++-- 1 file changed, 2 insertions(+), 2 deletions(-) diff --git a/writing/post-self/marsh/004.html b/writing/post-self/marsh/004.html index ade11d3bf..c74672c02 100644 --- a/writing/post-self/marsh/004.html +++ b/writing/post-self/marsh/004.html @@ -175,7 +175,7 @@ Something about the ephemerality of the sand and the permanence of the tile spea

“What the hell is this place?” Tule asked, wrinkling his nose at the scent of rotting vegetation in the air.

“A swamp,” Dry Grass said simply, a lopsided smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “A marsh, perhaps.”

If it had been intended to be a joke, it fell flat. We remained in silence for a few awkward moments.

-

She sighed. “My apologies. It is still important to me, however. It is– Ah, there she is.” She raised an arm and waved to a figure crouched at the edge of the platform just before the patch of grass. As we walked toward them in single file, she explained, “This sim was designed by Serene, whom you shall soon meet. She is my cocladist from the ninth stanza, and one of my favorite people in the world. I asked her to meet us here.”

+

She sighed. “My apologies. It is still important to me, however. It is– Ah, there she is.” She raised an arm and waved to a figure crouched at the edge of the platform just before the patch of grass. With the heat-haze and mugginess, their form was somewhat indistinct. They wore a frowzy white dress, along with some sort of hat — or perhaps a rather tall hairstyle. As we walked toward them in single file, she explained, “This sim was designed by Serene; Sustained And Sustaining, whom you shall meet in a moment. She is my cocladist from the ninth stanza, and one of my favorite people in the world. I asked her to meet us here.”

As we got closer, the strange hairstyle that I had noticed on the figure resolved into a pair of tall canine ears, and what I had assumed was a mask of some sort turned out to be a short, pointed muzzle. Serene stood up and stretched, smiling wanly to us before bowing in greeting.

“Serene, this is Tule and Cress, my partners, as well as a few more of their clade: Reed, Rush, and Sedge.”

The fox — a hunch confirmed by a quick check of the perisystem — nodded. “Of the Marsh clade? How droll,” she said, that smile veering perilously close to a smirk. “Welcome to my own little marsh.”

@@ -211,7 +211,7 @@ Something about the ephemerality of the sand and the permanence of the tile spea

((After Dry Grass leaves, Reed goes to talk with Lily))