Language (mimzomworld story)
more mimic centre + much conlanging (translations at the bottom)
contains: Nat actually trying to use the words she’s heard, Gingersnap’s continued conflict with Fatespeaker, the Spanish word for garlic (“ajo” is the cleanest approximation of “axo” I could think of. Think of the sound in “whole” and add the “A” from “lAnguage” or “Annotations.” English zezunoru ilela, ANE SENAKILUT UE— I’m pretty sure it’s /a/ on the ipa chart)
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Nat sits on the couch, with Fox staring at the animals in her book as she reads.
“Mo etse?” She asks, pointing at a wolf.
“Mo woxas?” Leaning into her side, they tap the picture— “Auwu’ekawo.”
They point to it, then themself. “Zose krrakawo, nem ane krrakawo.” Point to her— “Ue lewo. Nānuxasako’on zose wanuxalu lewo sirr.”
Dark eyes stare at her. She points at the wolf— “Awoo ekah woah.”
“Au-wu’e-kawo.”
“Auwuek—”
They hit her arm gently. Scoot away from her. Sit up. “U’e—” a gesture: one finger hopping from the palm to the fingertips. “U’e. Ksa ‘ue,’ ‘u’e.’ Zose ilela te’eke. Te’eke.
“Auwu’ekawo.”
“Auwu’ekawo?” A chirpy nod. They picked up nodding from her. She points at herself. “Wah-new-ha-lum li-woah Nan-oo-ha-sah-koh-ohn?”
“Wanuxalu lewo. Wanu-xa-lu le-wo.”
She tries, and tries, until eventually they pat her on the shoulder. “Io’a.”
“Wanuxalu lewo Nānuxasako’on.”
“Io’a! Io’a!” They tap their forehead. “Ane Lelaxotayanetek—Fox ki’ikik ena’asirr.” Tap at her forehead— “Ue Nānuxasako’on, wanuxalu sirr.”
“You’re Lel-ajo-tah-yan-eh-tech?”
“Io’a, Lelaxotayanetek! Nem Fox. Ki’ikik ue’asirr.”
“Fox is Lelaxotayanetek. Nānuxasako’on is Nat.” She closes the book. Stands to put it away, now that they’re not talking about the animals in the book, and they aren’t physically attached to her.
“Nat! Nat tsakin kekone na’at.”
“Na’at?”
“Lelati’i mo zose ‘which’ ‘what’ ‘do you’ ‘are you’ ‘how’. Ue lalat: Mo na’at? Mo.”
“What does na’at mean, Lelaxotayanetek?”
They throw a pillow at her, then do it again. “Na’at.” Tap the table a few times. “Na’at.” Bring her a banana from the fruit bowl, then go and do it again. “Na’at.”
“Again? Like… movie nights? How you want movies again all the time?”
Chirp-chirp-chirping, hopping up and down, they tug at her sleeve until she gets snacks. Until she tucks blankets around them both. Until she picks up the remote and finds a documentary about wolves.
Until they’re tucked into her side
“Nat. Nat, mo ue lelata auwu’ekawo?”
“Wolf. Auwu’ekawo is wolf.”
They repeat the word perfectly.
She tries not to be jealous.
Tucked into her arms, they mumble, “Totomolu ue. I love you.”
She breathes. “I love you too, Lexal—”
“Lelaxotayanetek.” They pat her side. “And Fox. Fox is good.”
“I love you too, Lelaxontayanetek. Te amo.”
“Moviemorrow?”
“Okay. Movie tomorrow. Go to sleep.”
“Mo Mimic Centre kekone?”
She mumbles agreement, ruffling their hair. “Mimics tomorrow, okay.”
“Senkrrakaraya,” he says carefully. Last time they visited, they repeated that multiple times about Gingersnap, so it must be xyr name.
That, and Fox called xyr name.
Xe goes still. Tips xyr head, wiping the black off xyr claws. “Iromu, Nānuxasako’on.” Taking his hand, xe pulls a wooden box out of xyr bag, and gives him a couple crickets.
Roasted crickets.
They taste nutty, almost. He thanks xem, and Fox swipes a couple.
“Mo rrauak tezato?”
“Io’a,” xe says, dipping xyr fingers in the paint again. Draws a line under xyr eyes that meets over xyr strange nose, and a triangle-based pattern down xyr arms.
Pulling them closer, xe draws the same line under their eyes.
“Tomal, ki’ikik sirr.” The mimic sits in their little circle, next to Gingersnap, and lets xem touch xyr forehead to theirs. Doesn’t wipe off the smudges of black paint left by xyr hands.
Fox gestures to them, repeating snippets of narrators talking about animals caring for their young until Nat gives them the right words.
“Senkrrakaraya speak of you,” they say. “Rau is not trusting of ki’ikik nem humans, netsk rau trusting you with Lelaxotayanetek.”
Fox taps at them, tap-tap-taps— “Mo ue yene lewoyene lelata? Mo lelate nem lewoaxanu?”
“Tsakinaxanu, ki’ikik. Tsakin lelata.”
They grumble. “Human lelata, then.”
“Some. Yene more words for healing nem medicine than you, nem yene less words for ewanuxa than you.”
“Nem zose ‘and,’ Teketsaluxone’e.”
Rau pulls Fox up to standing, insisting on some kind of chase-game. Sitting with Teketsaluxone’e, he watches them, and tries to figure out the rules again.
“Lelaxotayanetek still have claws, and ziwex, and choose. Can stay if ine choose to, an aksir ine if ine choose, but choose you.” A low rumbling growl forms in their chest, and they turn their full attention to him. “Ine choice is healing.
“Mo netsk not healing? Au’eletsalxone’exane ksa ziwex ue. Au’eletsalxone’exane ue.”
He nods. He may not understand most of those words, but a threat is a threat.
Fox is still small, but he can feel the odd strength when they hug him. Teketsaluxone’e, on the other hand, is fully grown. The half-hug, leaning on him is subtly powerful the same way having a purring leopard curled up aroung him might be.
Not that mimics purr.
“Your ki’ikik choose you.”
“Stay,” he says softly, “they asked me to stay.”
“Mo stay?”
“Yes. Uh, io’a. I stay.”
They just sit like that, quietly.
Hissing, they jolt upright— “Askirelaian. Ksa.”
The mimic from before stares at Teketsaluxone’e. Growls. “Lewoyene—”
“Senkrrakataya ue lelata. Lelata: ksa, Askirelaian, ksa. Rau lelata ue. Rau krrakaya ue. Rau rayakilut ue. Mo netsk yalat? Mo nestk ue yalat rau? Ksa.”
Gingersnap freezes. Locks eyes with them, and does not flinch when Fox crashes into rau. “ASKIRELAIAN. KSALALAT.”
“KSAXA.”
“Senkrrakaraya!”
Rau makes a complaining gesture at them. Complainingly. “Ksa yalat!”
Askirelaian’s ears droop. They whine, softly. “Ane ekan tinaka ue! Iromunewa ue! Ue rrukaraya letse’e, nem ksa ane!”
The conversation is mostly gestures and hissing from Gingersnap. Gestures and hissing and bared teeth and Teketsaluxone’e trying to mediate.
Fox tugs at his sleeve and pulls him away. “Fish.
“And we…. Ksa want kekone etse. Too much xsutskaya from Senkrrakaraya, we go. Go home.” They wave a hand. “Chickens home.”
“Home with fish and movie?” he asks, and they chirp loudly at him.
In the back seat of his car, they talk about what movie they want. Not entirely in words he understands, but they’ll figure it out at home.
Either with gestures, or by rephrasing it until he understands.
Or, as it turns out—while he’s waiting for the apparently-mandatory popcorn to pop—by making animal noises and bringing fur coats and scarves until he understands what they mean.
“Polar bear?”
“No. Golden brown. ” They wrap the scarves around their head. “Big otsixonu. Eat the stripy white-black not-deer and the tsakin deer with the—” sticking their arms straight up, they nod their head at her insistently.
“Big cat? That hunts zebras and antelopes?”
“Io’a!”
“That’s a lion.”
Fox listens closely to the TV, treating it a bit like a sports match. Understands enough of it to make little frustrated noises when the narrator talks about the prey escaping, cheering when the hunt finally goes well. Mimics the sounds the lion cubs make, curling up at his side.
“Wolves next?”
“Io’a,” he says. “One episode for wolves.”
Axanu Lelata Translations: (the ones that aren’t explained by context)
English zezunoru ilela, ANE SENAKILUT UE: Confusing English sounds, I WANT YOU TO BLEED— Expression of my frustration about inconsistent letter-sounds in English.
Mo etse?: What’s this? Accidentally similar to the Spanish “esto,” as in “¿Que es esto?” [mo (question)] [etse (thing, object)]
Mo woxas? Auwu’ekawo: What’s that creature? It’s a wolf. [auwu (howling onomatopoeia) + krrakawo (predator, hunt-animal)]
Zose krrakawo, nem ane krrakawo. Ue lewo. Nānuxasako’on zose wanuxalu lewo sirr: It’s a predator, and/like I’m a predator. You’re prey. [Nat] is my prey-leader (prey-matriarch).
Zose ilela te’eke. Te’eke: It’s a skipping sound. Skip. [zose (is, equals)] [ilela (sound)] [te’eke (to skip, hop)]
Ane Lelaxotayanetek—Fox ki’ikik ue’asirr. Ue Nānuxasako’on, wanuxalu sirr: I’m Whisperstep—your pup, Fox. You’re Murmurdawn, my wanuxalu. Ue’asirr comes from “rrauaksir” (guard), the root of “sirr” and later “aksir.” [ue (you, your) + aksir (to keep, claim)]
Lelaxotayanetek: Whisperstep: they who speak with care and stalk without a whisper, who shall not make a sound unless they wish. From Auetotilutayanetek & Letotaxosana’at. [lelaxa (whisper, breathe-speak) + letotat (speak as clear as water) + yanetek (stalk, think carefully)]
Nānuxasako’on: Murmurdawn: they who give stories at dawn. From “nālana enanulu nem xasako’on,” the extended version of “nālenu nem xasako’on,” meaning bedtime story or lullaby. [nālana (story) + enanulu (to share) + xasakom (day) + o’one (near)]
Nat tsakin kekone na’at: Nat sounds like echo. [tsakin (next to, similar)] [kekone (path)] [na’at (echo, repeat, again)]
Mimic Centre kekone: Mimic Centre path, go to the Mimic Centre. “Kekone” just means ground, path, or way.
Iromu, Nānuxasako’on: Greetings, [Nat]. A formal way to say hello: used for important conversations and strangers. [iromu (peace)]
Rrauak tezato: Makeup used by the guard gender. “Rrauakane” is the act of guarding, and a separate word. [rrauak (guard gender)] [tezakit (colour) + etotat (water)]
Tomal, ki’ikik sirr: Hi, claim-pup. An affectionate way to say hello, taken from “tatomalu,” meaning heart (rhythm-soul/soul with heavy footsteps).
Mo ue yene lewoyene lelata? Mo lelata nem lewoaxanu: You know human-speak? You speak with prey-people? [lewo (prey) + yene (think, know)] [lelata (language, speak)] [lewo (prey) + axanu (people)]
Tsakinaxanu, ki’ikik. Tsakin lelata: Near-people, pup. Near language. [tsakin (next to, similar) + axanu (people)]
Ziwex: Reality, used here to mean clarity/sobriety (not being drugged like Rainchaser) [ziwex (reality, truth)]
An aksir ine: We would keep em. Exclusive we: us but not you. [an (we)] [aksir (keep)] [ine (pup pronoun)]
Mo netsk not healing? Au’eletsalxone’exane ksa ziwex ue. Au’eletsalxone’exane ue: But if you’re not healing em? Death shall erase thee from reality. Thou shalt die. Ne uses highly formal (non-euphemistic) language for death, here. It’s a word primarily restricted to funerals, for fear of attracting the attention of Death itself. [netsk (but)] [au’eletsalxone’exane (death)]
Askirelaian. Ksa: Fatespeaker. No. [askiren (future) + laian (warning, to warn)]
Lewoyene: Thinking prey, humans. “But the human—”
Senkrrakataya ue lelata. Lelata: ksa, Askirelaian, ksa. Rau lelata ue. Rau krrakaya ue. Rau rayakilut ue. Mo netsk yalat? Mo nestk ue yalat rau? Ksa: Sharpteeth told you. Said: no, Fatespeaker, no. Ae told you. Ae snapped at/threatened you. Ae attacked you. But did you listen? Did you listen to aem? No.
ASKIRELAIAN. KSALALAT: FATESPEAKER. SHUT UP. [askiren (future) + laian (warning, to warn)]
KSAXA: SHUT THE FUCK UP. Ksaxa is a common euphemism for death (used by non-deathclaimed) so ae’re also cursing xem to die, which is the meaning Deathstalker hears. [ksa (un, negation) + xa (to breathe)]
Ane ekan tinaka ue! Iromunewa ue! Ue rrukaraya letse’e, nem ksa ane: I’m trying to mend/fix you! Bring you justice! You growl at everyone, and not me! [ekan (do)] [tinaka (fix)] [ue (you)] [iromunewa (justice)] [rrukaraya (growl at, hate)] [letse’e (everything)]
And we…. Ksa want kekone etse. Too much xsutskaya from Senkrrakaraya, we go: And we…. Don’t want this path. Too much hatred from Sharpteeth, we should go.
•••
Character Masterpost