#nyreem

[shinelikedew]

HyzenthMay Day 6: Defender

"This young doe mine. I mother. You come to kill, I fight till you dead."

This one is from a scene in Tales from Watership Down where she defends Nyreem, a young doe with a sprained leg, from a foraging rat. I might have mixed feelings on Tales (including a certain character interaction in this very same chapter...) but I really like Nyreem and how protective and kind Hyzenthlay is toward her! She immediately starts referring to herself as Nyreem's mother and spends the night telling her stories to calm her down even though she's so afraid herself :')

Hyzenthlay: *sees a vulnerable young doe* adoption papers! adoption papers now!!

The background is from the 1978 film. I found a stock image of thorns that I put in front.

[qualitypoison]

tales from watership doodles I love how Flyairth is canonicly buff as heck

[celestial-cutie]

The Jumpers at the Beach!

Spring tried to suppress a giggle. Laughing at Leapfrog was a bad idea. Always take her ideas seriously, however paranoid they seemed. ‘Don’t worry! We’ve got Hop here. I doubt the sea’d try and take her down.’

‘I guess… B-but what if some animal tries to eat us? I-I heard you get sharks here! What if they try to eat Skip, h-how’d the team work then?’ She clung to his arm once more, and she started shaking. Spring slowly pulled his arm out of her grip, and took her hand.

‘Hey, chill. I don’t think anyone would try and eat Skip, Bouncer’d rough them up if they so much as looked as her funny, yeah?’ He received a nod back from Leapfrog. That meant Crisis adverted, for now.

‘Hey, Bounce, how did I even let you convince me this would be a good idea?’ Skipper asked, fiddling with her swimming costume. It felt weird wearing it, especially as it wasn’t like she’d ever swum much in it.

Bouncer gave her a signature smile. ‘Come on, it’s good for us all to have fun! Besides, I know Hop’s at least enjoying it, and Scamp’s been pretty quiet so far, which is great for her!’

‘I-I guess. I-I just feel kind of exposed here, a-and I’m worrying about how we’ll convince everyone to leave. B-but…’ She looked down at the sand, and kicked it absentmindedly.

‘You want me to make a sand castle with you? Sure! Let’s kick Trip’s butt with our awesome one!’ She gave Skipper a grin again, and took her hand, Skipper’s face lighting up with a smile, as she quickly grabbed the bucket and spade.

‘Hey, Trip, we’re gonna beat your crummy sandcastle, okay?’

‘Yeah right Bouncer! Me ‘n’ Hop are making the best one possible!’

Somehow, Hop had indeed been roped into helping Trip make his sandcastle. Trip had tried using Hop’s light abilities to melt the sand, maybe make glass, but he only managed in almost blinding himself. They had managed to build an impressive sandcastle though, it was 3 buckets of sand high, and had a moat. Scamp had wondered off to find seashells, but had been gone for a while. She had probably found something more interesting to do, or was still collecting them. She was hard to figure out at times, trying to put on airs and graces, yet she still loved doing ‘childish’ things, like making seashell necklaces for everyone.

There was the rush-rush-rush of someone running into the ocean and kicking the waves while doing so.

“Look, I’m not eaten!” said Spring .

“I don’t wanna, it’s cold!” Leapfrog tried to argue.

“What did we come to the ocean for if no one’s going to swim?”

“Huuuuh…” Leapfrog kicked the sand into the water and watched it darken as it gets wet.

“Okay, let’s go together, slowly. It’s actually not that cold.”

Spring came back out and took Leap’s hand.

“Don’t let go!” she demanded.

It went well until the water reached her spine, which found the water a little too cold. But there was no turning back now. Leap had to show the ocean she was fearless or else it would take her as she turned her back on it. Maybe turn her into a mermaid. How horrible that would be, living in this freezing water for the rest of her life.

Actually it isn’t too bad after a while.

Spring waved his friends on the shore. “Anybody else wanna join us?”

“No, I’m not into water that much.” Skipper declined.

“Yeah, I think I’m staying with the captain, enjoying the sun.” Bouncer said.

“Really, if you go tan any more you’re gonna turn black as coal.” Trip said and a glare told him to better run for the water.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s an idiot but that’s his father’s fault.”

Bouncer just groaned. She was annoyed but was hopeful Trip would change his attitude soon to fit into his new family. She guessed scaring him every time he screws up would help it. Like training a dog.

Scamp finally showed up again with her arms filled with seashells. Sorted by colour she carefully stuffed them into one of the backpacks they brought with them.

Skipper decided it was time to go back home. She wanted to get back before it got dark. The ground had a few cracks here and there and she didn’t want to accidentally step in one in the dark and mess up her artificial leg. Who would fix it? Spring and Leapfrog left the water, although Leapfrog had to be carried out. “It’s so cold outside of the water!”

The trip back home was rather uneventful, except everybody complimented Skipper’s idea to get to the beach. She had thought it’d strengthen the bonds between them. Seemed to have worked. Even if not as greatly as she had anticipated. Maybe a few more fun trips would do the trick.

[celestial-cutie]

Them

  I checked my backpack a third time and made sure I had everything I needed. It was going to be one of those days. The kind of day where I was expecting to punch a centaur in the stomach, or maybe just try and eat a lunch that wasn’t tinned tuna. All the actually good food had either gone bad or been eaten by them. And by them, I actually meant… them. No one quite knew what they were, but everyone had seen what they could do. Nobody alive had seen them; but what they left of the ones who did see them gave our imagination enough to work with.

… I still say ‘our’. Will I ever get used to this? Two weeks. What do human faces even look like?

It’s been long enough that I’ve forgotten what I look like.

What should I look like?  I find it hard enough to even see my own hands, if they are hands. What are hands? Should I have them?

I get confused. Where are they, our. Us. Everyone. Anyone. Someone.

I realize I’ve always just assumed I was human. No mirror ever confirmed it to me. But what did it matter if I was the only one? No. There were others. They can’t all be gone.

In the distance I saw another centaur.

~~~~

I blacked out again. It seems to happen a lot. I blame the centaurs. I did punch one, once. It might have been the best day I can remember.

I still do not know why I get black outs though. Maybe it’s them. They cause it.

I tried to recognize the place but the darkness made every place look the same. I’ve only got my maybe-hands to find my way around. Centaurs were clearly visible though. Their eyes. If those things were eyes. Thinking of them made me shake.

There were times of light. But the sun one day refused us it’s light. Not it’s warmth, just the light.

I still don’t know how it works. Mostly, it’s dark here. Light is hard to come by. I’m good at seeing without light. Or maybe I am bad at seeing without light. I cannot remember what light is, so maybe that is the problem. I can always pack my backpack easily enough though.

But from what I heard of the sun, our sun, it was nice. Warm. And nice.

I felt tired. I would sleep in narrow passages. Too narrow for the centaurs. Too narrow for them. I didn’t like sleeping. It gave me time to think, gave my mind time to wander. Wander through a field of memory landmines.

Never memory lane. That would be too easy. No, my memories, of what I always presumed were memories, would come to me, in an explosions of senses, the smell, the sound, the colours. It would explode upon me, bombarding me with every little single detail. And then leave. Only a shard, or small sliver would remain. And then, I would forget the memory.

That’s why I needed my backpack. I had to write down the memory, as soon as it happened, every smell, like the smell of wet cement, or feeling my feet walking through hot pavements, the soles of them blistering, or hearing the sound of shouting, people gathered in massive groups, children cheering, or crying. I never knew which. I still cannot remember what children look like.

However, my notes, while full, are hectic, sloppily written, hard to decipher. I can never remember what the memory was, even when reading them again.

But at least they won’t be entirely lost.

A new memory washed over me. I closed my eyes. I smell… salt. Salty air. I hear waves crashing against rocks. A voice. It spoke a language I did not understand. I did not know whether male or female or neither. Whether human or something else. Only the most important detail. I had loved this voice.

I had loved this voice, so, so much. Even when the memory was gone, and I finished scribbling down half remembered details, the voice. I still remembered the voice. Who were they? He? She? It? I wanted to know.

~~~

I woke up. The voice… I remembered it. I really did remember it! I would’ve laughed, cheered but I did not know how. A memory that stayed with me. That only spoke for it’s importance. I need to find the owner of this voice! I was about to leave my hiding spot when I saw something in the dark. Something I thought were eyes.

Whose eyes were they? What was it. Was it a centaur, or them, or… or our?!?

I tried to focus. I heard voices. They weren’t memories and they weren’t the one I remembered. I came closer but stayed out of reach. I recognized them. The eyes. Once those eyes belonged to my friends. Then they disappeared. They took them. And here they were. And I understood. They belonged to them now. They were them.

They were them. They had betrayed me. I needed them, yes they had left. But.

how dare they.

They kept babbling on in the language I did not understand. My rage took over and I attacked them. I did not see they weren’t alone. All those who had left me. They had pinned me down without any effort. Kept talking. Those Bastards. All these voices.

But one stuck out. A new one, but one I knew.

It. I remembered It. Them. The new one. I knew It. Somehow.

And then something clicked into place. It was…

I remembered how to scream. I remember it wasn’t them who betrayed me. I was the one who betrayed them. Forgot them. But that wasn’t really me, was it? Something had taken me. Us. Made us forget. Who were were. What our goal was. But they escaped it. Finally so did I. I remember the voice I loved. I didn’t understand what that voice said while I heard it. But I remembered the words now and remembered what they meant. I remembered what the voice meant. What the person meant to me.This feeling helped shake off whatever had infested my mind. I asked where I would find my dear friend. They attacked me still? Didn’t they see I was back? It’s me! Really me! Please!

Their voices spoke. What did they say? I was the one who did this? I let it in their minds? I… can’t imagine that. This compassion I feel for you, these are my true feelings, aren’t they?

Why do you not recognise me? Surely I do not look different? See, I am still me! See, my voice is surely the same, surely you know who I am. I am me, Our, Us, I am.

I am….

I am?

I am what?

What, what am I?

I am human, but what are you? Why aren’t we the same? Why is your skin looking so soft. Why do you only have two eyes? What are those things at the ends of your arms? What grotesque monstrosities have you become?

What?

What do you mean I have changed? I am no monstrosity. I am still me, I am what I always was. I have not changed, mutated, become different. You have all changed.

Everyone has changed. The voice, It, has it changed?

My dear beloved friend… disfigured like you all?

Maybe… whatever has caused this, maybe it hadn’t reached my friend yet. Let me go, I have to save-

Was this pain I felt? Something of me was missing. It smelt of burnt flesh. Had they shot me? A hole burnt into me. No! My friend! I stumbled forward. Then there was a hole in my leg. I kept going on the other ones. Of course I couldn’t flee. I fell. This was the end.

I heard the voice. Questioning. Disbelief.

Voice, what has happened to you? Are you still here, still like me? Not disfigured? I wanted to turn around. I wanted to see them… one last time… no matter how they looked now. They were still my friend. My dear, sweet, beloved friend.

….

Stay safe, don’t let them change you..

~~~

“Are you sure… this… thing was…?”

“I’m sorry, there was nothing we could do… We took too long… We tried the best we could, but, it was hard. Finding the people, the resources. Doing this is not easy.”

“I…” I choked on the words. I just stared at what has become of my… my beloved, dearest friend, Ouri.

With pain I reflected on the past weeks. How I hoped there was something we could do. I listened to his incoherent ramblings while he wasn’t… wasn’t how I knew… Wait. There was something odd. While my friend dwelled in these caverns, we witnessed… no…

What were the odd sounds? The odd clicks, or maybe stomps. Where did they come from..?

Why had no one else witnessed them, or seen them…?

And where was everyone? Why was this cave, empty…

I remember how my friend reacted to unseen creatures. My friend tried to fight but always suddenly disappeared. Found somewhere else again with no explanation to what happened. For a moment I saw something. Something that could be vaguely described as a centaur.

If centaur heads were horse heads, and their legs looked like…?