Fever Dream [P] Apr 27, 2017 20:29:37 GMT -5
Post by Ira Baranov on Apr 27, 2017 20:29:37 GMT -5
He was awake before the sun, the air damp yet crisp. He could smell the dew on the blades of grass as they crunched under his heavy boots, feel the leaves in the trees above him tremble in the whispering breeze. This was his time before even the birds began their morning chorus. It was his time to be at peace. It came and went so quickly that oftentimes Ira would be left feeling listless, aimless – desperate. But then he would only think that there would be another dawn tomorrow. Most likely.
But in these odd twilight hours, he found himself staring up at the dome-shrouded sky. He could just make out the dull flicker of stars beyond the haze of clouds. Usually, he would ponder if they were real, or just a projection created by the Keepers. But as he stared at the stars and breathed in the quiet, he felt suddenly, simply, very far away. It was an odd-feeling distance, one he didn’t often allow himself to experience. His thoughts were not on the stars, or the farm, or the endless responsibilities. No, his thoughts were separate, so far and away and with someone else.
But he had work to do.
He fed the animals with his waning supplies. That had to be seen to, of course, so he would have to schedule a meeting with whoever was in charge of the Hunters these days. He patted the cow on her head as she greeted him, murmuring to the creature and wondering if he’d be able to get milk out of her before the Ring tried to butcher her. It had taken him long enough to find a cow and a hell of a lot of bargaining. He’d probably have to sell his soul to find a bull.
With a soft exhale through his nose, Ira continued on his rounds. He limped through the neat rows of vegetables, leaning down every now and then to grasp at a leaf or bud. He’d been working on a series of trellises constructed from a mix of wire and dried bamboo, and set about completing the structure. His fingers worked quickly, deftly, almost mechanically, as he wove the wire between the bamboo stalks. Every part of him, except his hands, was still as he worked. But then he was smiling, his thoughts drifting again, reaching far to the East. He thought of her eyes, commanding and unwavering, yet kind, glinting with humor and ... understanding.
He shook his head clear, brow furrowing as he looked down at the trellis, not realizing he’d finished it and started on the next. He finished the last two and went to work setting them up, gingerly wrapping some small, green sprouts around the trellis, tying them with a precious bit of string.
As he worked in the burgeoning dawn, he kept picturing her lips as they had frowned, then smiled; then set in concentration as she laid her hands on him and healed him. It was alien even as he remembered it, part of him unsure if it had happened, wondering if she were not some hazy memory from a fever dream. He’d heard that the Keepers had ways of making you see things that weren’t real. Maybe he had dreamed her. Zephyr, who he had been so wary of, who had saved him, who had healed him and made his body feel whole, as it had not felt in 15 years since he’d lost his leg. He was still, quiet, immovable, only his hands moving as he went about his business, conserving every last ounce of strength and energy for the long day ahead, and grinning to himself like a buffoon.
ooc| WHEEEZE i did it!!