Dusk, In Glimpses
unrepentantAuthor
A cat that writes stories.
My 'prompt bingo' for Thousand Roads' second anniversary was for the theme 'Pokémorphs', to nobody's surprise. I chose to keep things tame and respond with drabbles! I hope folks enjoy~ x
I answered the triple I found most compelling. I would love to return to the other six soon.
It's a simple enough question. Why so hard to answer?
She goes by 'Dusk', but it isn't who she is. It's 'a' name, not her.
There used to be a sneasel, whose clan-mates called her by a certain name, another name, but that sneasel seems like a relative, a friend, even a stranger. She doesn't feel like 'Dusk'. She would never have made the choices Dusk has made.
She considers answering a different question. 'What' is she? A creature both sneasel and human. A friend, to some. A fighter, always. Things that will last.
She answers, "Does it really matter?"
It's only when she hears herself still laughing when the laughter of those around her has already died down, that she realises how she feels. A fullness in her chest; a lightness in her head.
The last time she'd laughed like this, she'd not seen her second autumn. She remembers playing in a stream, with other kits her age; getting lightly splashed; tackling them into the shallows; freezing flecks of water where her young claws clipped the surface, to send arcing upward.
She'd lost that feeling as a sneasel. How strange, to find it again, as this strange other thing.
"When you return to your people," he says, as if he knows how it will happen. Perhaps he does. He may have predicted it. He may have preordained it. Absol have their ways, wasn't that right? Dusk doesn't contradict him.
"When you go back home," she says, as if she believes there's a home waiting. She doesn't have to be wrong. It just feels like she is – it feels like she wants it to be true for herself. Dusk doesn't contradict her.
"When I've earned the right," Dusk says, as if such a thing were possible.
Nobody ever earns that.
I answered the triple I found most compelling. I would love to return to the other six soon.
| Who Are You? | Newly-Challenging Tasks | Morph Fellowship |
| New Clothes | Unexpected Joys | Wrong Size, Wrong Shape |
| New Senses | Between Two Worlds | Welcomed or Cast Out? |
Who Are You?
It's a simple enough question. Why so hard to answer?
She goes by 'Dusk', but it isn't who she is. It's 'a' name, not her.
There used to be a sneasel, whose clan-mates called her by a certain name, another name, but that sneasel seems like a relative, a friend, even a stranger. She doesn't feel like 'Dusk'. She would never have made the choices Dusk has made.
She considers answering a different question. 'What' is she? A creature both sneasel and human. A friend, to some. A fighter, always. Things that will last.
She answers, "Does it really matter?"
Unexpected Joys
It's only when she hears herself still laughing when the laughter of those around her has already died down, that she realises how she feels. A fullness in her chest; a lightness in her head.
The last time she'd laughed like this, she'd not seen her second autumn. She remembers playing in a stream, with other kits her age; getting lightly splashed; tackling them into the shallows; freezing flecks of water where her young claws clipped the surface, to send arcing upward.
She'd lost that feeling as a sneasel. How strange, to find it again, as this strange other thing.
Welcomed or Cast Out?
"When you return to your people," he says, as if he knows how it will happen. Perhaps he does. He may have predicted it. He may have preordained it. Absol have their ways, wasn't that right? Dusk doesn't contradict him.
"When you go back home," she says, as if she believes there's a home waiting. She doesn't have to be wrong. It just feels like she is – it feels like she wants it to be true for herself. Dusk doesn't contradict her.
"When I've earned the right," Dusk says, as if such a thing were possible.
Nobody ever earns that.
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