#;; ᵗᵃˡᵉˢ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ {STORY TIME}

[isolatedblithe]

“Tell me another story. Please?”

        Words whispered through the heaviness of lethargy, comfortable where she was bundled up in their arms with both heads tilted back and both sets of eyes trained on the stars above. Veles felt Apath’s arms tighten around her in response, drawing her closer to their chest as their chin rested atop her head, finding comfort in the hum that caught in the back of their throat.

        “...alrigh’, I s’pose I can do tha’.” They knew it’d be the only way she would get any sleep, and Apath was glad to talk to her until she managed to doze off, their friend kept safe and snug in their lap. Apath took a while to think--they’d been out of practice with their story telling for so long, it almost felt uncomfortable to share them with Veles. But she was an attentive thing, she always strained to listen to everything they had to say, and they always relented and told her things no one else would bother listening to.

        “Long, long ago...th’Earth was all water, no land in sight...” They began softly, not minding as she turned her head to lay it against their chest--knowing good and well the vibrations of their voice would help lull Veles to sleep, “all the animals lived in th’sky. They waited and waited for land to form, an’ they eventually sent a water beetle down...he began to bring mud up ta th’surface ta dry.” Apath’s gaze remained on the inky sky even as Veles’ eyes began to close, even as both their teams drew close and settled down.

        “Still they waited as the beetle worked for th’land ta dry so they could come down, even soon sending Grandfather Buzzard down, too. He would flap his wings to help th’mud dry, and every flap formed mountains an’ valleys...soon, he helped th’Earth dry, so all th’animals could come down.” Their head tilted as the fire pit began to burn low, embers and logs crackling, sparks drifting into the chilly night air.

        “Bu’ when they did, ev’rythang was dark, an’ there was no light. So, Grandfather was sent out again, an’ he brought back th’sun. Bu’ he brought it so close tha’ it burnt all th’animals, so they all pushed it away. Not far enou’, it was still so hot, an’ even ta’day th’crawfish is red b’cause th’sun burns him so.” One hand rubbed up and down Veles’ arm, listening closely for any sign she might be ready to doze off.

        “So they all pushed an’ pushed, until it was so far ou’ they could have day an’ night...an’ Grandfather told them all they must sleep, fer seven days, an’ seven nights, while ev’rythang else was still bein’ created.” Apath nuzzled their cheek against the top of her head, even as Veles finally began to go slack in their hold, still yet watching the night sky themself. “Bu’ some plants an’ some animal stayed awake all those days an’ nights.”

        They knew she was asleep--as were both their teams, but Apath continued. There wasn’t much left of the shortened version of the story, anyways.

        “Cougar, owl, cedar, fir...some others, they all stayed awake. Tha’s why those animals can hunt all nigh’, and why those plants are green all year ‘round...they were awake durin’ tha’ sacred time, and they are sacred, too. All th’others who slept, tha’s why they hafta sleep when wint’a comes ‘round. S’why some trees die in th’cold months, they hafta sleep. S’why sometimes, in traditional families, comin’ of age means y’hafta fast fer seven days an’ seven nights.”

        “...bu’ unlike them, you’ll be awake in th’mornin’.” Teasing words whispered to the sleeping woman in their arms as Apath got to their feet, holding Veles bridal style. May as well let her sleep in their bed, goodness knows she’d be up and at ‘em before the sun even came up, back off to her cave to do her own things.