44 lines
3.9 KiB
HTML
44 lines
3.9 KiB
HTML
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<html>
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<title>Zk | 002</title>
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<h1>Zk | 002</h1>
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</header>
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<article class="content">
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<p><span class="tag">writing</span> <span class="tag">furry</span> <span class="tag">fiction</span> <span class="tag">fantasy</span></p>
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<p>“You’re back,” his mother greeted him with a warm smile as soon as he trotted back into the camp.</p>
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<p>“Mm,” he agreed, leaning into her hug and briefly resting his blunt muzzle on her shoulder. “Food?”</p>
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<p>She laughed and nodded, “Of course. Come, Tenoc, the whole family’s here, and there’s plenty of food for you.”</p>
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<p>He followed after her with a distracted grin. His mind wasn’t completely back in place; at least, that’s how it felt. All he could think of was how he used to grab onto the tip of his mother’s tail when he was a kit, letting her guide him around as a sort of game. Had done so, only a few weeks previous. When she gestured for him to follow, his tired body wanted nothing more than to fall into that habit, but he know that it would be frowned upon, though. That part of his life was decidedly over.</p>
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<p>They must’ve known that he’d run back, as there was indeed plenty of food, and much of it looked to be fresh off the coals, still piping steam into the thick air, making it all the thicker with heady scents. There were platters of grain, steamed in tightly-bundled leaves with salt and berries, shaped into little logs. There were fish cooked at least four different ways. There were shellfish by the bowl- and plate-ful. There were small rounds of flatbread with a pinch of highly spiced meat piled on each - who knows how his parents had gotten their paws on the spices. There were berries, drupes, and sweet tubers mixed with flour and formed into cakes, Tenoc’s favorite.</p>
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<p>It was his homecoming.</p>
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<p>Settled under a tree with a wooden plank piled high with tidbits of his favorite food, Tenoc surveyed the village he had grown up in, eyes squinting through the bright sun, a faint smile pasted on his muzzle. The collection of shacks, low houses, partially-underground hovels, and repaired Golden-Age ruins stretched on for quite a while. Bordered only by Tabletop and the marshes, the people had room to spread out, and nothing but natural hazards and themselves to blame for not being more numerous. Even with the relatively low population, his extended family (only mother knew all the relations) was large enough to fill their plot with running children, gardens, a hovel or two of their own, and even a diverted stream feeding a foodpond growing grain around the borders and housing fish and crustaceans. </p>
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<p>Eschewing the seat of honor for the bole of his favorite tree, laughed and talked with those close to him around morsels of food.</p>
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<p>“So good to have you back!”</p>
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<p>“So good to be back, nice and warm here.”</p>
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<p>“Isn’t it beautiful up there?”</p>
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<p>“Very much so. You can see forever.”</p>
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<p><q class="comment">T starts to talk about journey, parents get quiet, then stern, younger kids don’t know what’s going on, want to hear more</q></p>
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<p><q class="comment">T clams up</q></p>
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</article>
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<p>Page generated on 2020-06-24</p>
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