update from sparkleup
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<p>“I mean, that’s why I’m out here. It’s good to get away from all that bullshit.”</p>
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<p>“Oh, so you are using me for a vacation, yes?”</p>
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<p>Debarre laughed and poked at End Waking’s thigh. “Where’d this sense of humor come from?”</p>
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<p>“The effrontery of weasels never ceases to amaze,” he said. “I have a sense of humor. The squirrels and I share our private jokes. I practice them before the fire.”</p>
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<p>“The audacity of weasels never ceases to amaze,” he said. “I have a sense of humor. The squirrels and I share our private jokes. I practice them before the fire.”</p>
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<p>“Fucking lame,” Debarre said, rolling his eyes. He tucked closer to the skunk all the same.</p>
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<p>That End Waking was so open to physical affection over the last few weeks was something he was keen to take advantage of. </p>
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<p>That End Waking was so open to touch over the last few weeks was something he was keen to take advantage of. He knew that neither of them were necessarily the cuddly type, and most of the time, he was happy with the level of physical contact he got from the skunk, just as he was with the partners his other forks had settled down with. Still, it was nice every once and a while. A bit of touch to keep him grounded. It tended to happen when their relationship picked up again, after both of them had spent months or years apart, each living their separate, more cerebral lives.</p>
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<p>Before long, however, they set the cloak aside to get dressed, and Debarre watched as End Waking prepped a sizeable hare and pushed it onto a cast-iron spit and set it over the fire, a tilted pan beneath it catching the drippings.</p>
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<p>They dined on the split hare and squash roasted in the drippings, both pungent with thyme. They stayed up until it was well and truly dark, talking about this or that, though never politics.</p>
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<p>Worn out as they were, though, they didn’t last much longer, eventually retreating to the makeshift tent that End Waking had set up with the fabric that had been his previous shelter, strung over a rope and draped over his recovered cot. Narrow as it was, they had to huddle close — the only time the skunk was consistently okay with close physical contact and intimacy — sharing each others’ warmth beneath the cloak and a few blankets besides.</p>
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<p>“E.W.?”</p>
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<p>“Mm? I like it when you call me that.”</p>
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<p>“I’m a sucker for nicknames,” he said, tucking himself back against the skunk.</p>
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<p>“That you are.” He tucked his snout over Debarre’s shoulder. “What were you going to ask, my dear?”</p>
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<p>“I…well, some changes are coming to the System. Sounds like we’re getting A/V and a few other things.”</p>
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<p>“I will not use it, if so.”</p>
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<p>“I don’t know if I will, either. I’m just worried about changes.”</p>
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<p>“How so?”</p>
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<p>“I don’t know,” Debarre mumbled. “I just think there’s a lot of subtle things — more than just the little stuff May Then My Name talks about — and I’m worried those will go away or change.”</p>
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<p>End Waking hummed thoughtfully. “Things have survived Secession and Launch.”</p>
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<p>“Yeah, but those were political things, right? Not technological things.”</p>
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<p>“You are worried external engineers will tamper?”</p>
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<p>He nodded.</p>
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<p>“I do not know that they have a good enough understanding of the subtleties to do so. One does not understand forking or memory or sensoria until after uploading.”</p>
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<p>“Well, maybe not intentionally changing things.</p>
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</article>
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<footer>
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<p>Page generated on 2022-04-02</p>
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