80th Spring 516AV
Sea of Grass
18th Bell
Sea of Grass
18th Bell
Oh, how much he liked it. This was something he had only dreamt of, an experience extracted directly by his deepest desires. He had to fight his eyes to avoid crying in pure, untainted joy, and more than once he wanted to simply pull down his pants and truly enjoy himself. The Sea of Grass was not a barren land. It spawned countless creatures, and was more than capable to sustain the weirdest and most diverse species. This was both a blessing and a curse. The curse was obvious – dangers loomed everywhere, stalking through the tall grass, following one’s trail, watching from the darkness of the night. It was reasonable to explain Wikus’ paranoia when he headed into said infinite landscape and his sleeping regime was severely affected. Part of his mental health had decayed because of it, and the fact that he was born and raised in said region was of no help. Almost all of those born in the same generation as him had befallen to the wilderness, some when they were children, some when they were fully branded warriors. The wilderness gave and the wilderness took, yet he had managed to slip through the cracks.
The blessing of the Sea of Grass was obvious. The flowers that he adored, that he wanted to build a home out of, the fragments of his soul that bloomed from the soil, were all around him. They were so present that he could barely walk forward, afraid of stepping on one, unable to harm a single one of them. So obsessed he was with them that he was straining himself in attempts of keeping up, on trying to harvest each and every last one of them before the men, animal and wagon behind him ran them over. Panting harshly, he ran around left to right picking the most interesting ones, the bigger ones, the ones that he simply couldn’t ignore. Their sheer numbers were too much to store, and he had almost ran out of space. His beard was congested with them, so congested in fact that some of them had fallen out despite his insistence to keep them there. His basket had long ago been saturated with them to the point of being unable to introduce a single one of them without damaging another one. There was no space for more, yet he refused to believe that. And so both of his hands were full, holding the stems with as much care as he could, unable to close his palms for a while now.
Feeling like he should dispose of them, the exhausted Wikus quickly turned around and ran through the soil with his bare feet, heading towards one of the three wagons. In one of them, he had made his own flowery nest, whomever looked inside almost certain the bearded and shirtless man was saving to open his own floristry. Truth was, he had never headed so far away from the road as on this day. His employed at the Swamp Survey Services had sent him off as a wilderness guide to make sure Konrad and his ugly companion didn’t perish while traveling. He didn’t have much choice but to obey, and now it seemed he was getting an anticipated payment. Wikus was aware that this quantity of flowers he could never use or weave into crowns, yet he wasn’t going to give up. As for the company itself, each had their own task. There was a carter, whom was in charge of mapping the terrain for a likely expansions of the Dynasties’ terrain despite the distance between their current position and the swamp. There was no hunter, no tracker, no carter... Nothing salve Konrad, his companion, the Donkey, and Wikus.
This was the second day they scouted the landscape. They didn’t get too far considering the Sea of Grass’ dimensions, but they weren’t close to Kenash either. They had questioned him several times as to why he insisted on traveling inland, and Wikus suspected they thought he did so for the flowers. However, he didn’t do it ‘only’ for the flowers. He knew how to camp, and that meant staying away from the road. People didn’t realize how much animals used the roads to claim a meal – they weren’t only used by people. Wikus wasn’t quite aware of the task of the organized group he guided, so for now he focused on his own needs. He was certain the traveling group was out here to enslave as well, yet the details weren’t disclosed to him. Whatever, really. Right now, he only had one focus, which is securing his pretty flowers.
Panting and sweating greatly, the flowers and their numbers were slowly fading away, which was both sad and appreciated, as he was starting to become slightly exhausted even if there was much more to the day than this. Looking ahead between pants, he saw the grass slowly beginning to grow, its height way superior to even his height, growing in loose patches. The Sea of Grass’ solution to the lack of trees, apparently, for trees were as rare as rocks. These small forests with trees made from grass were extremely dangerous, and so he felt inclined to address this to the men. Turning around, he whistled for the men’s attention. “We enter. Silence the most, understand?” Wikus glanced towards Konrad, whom was hiding under his hat as usual. He performed an inverse nod, just to make sure he had understood what Wikus had said. Glancing Three-Eyes, Wikus spoke again. “We enter in group, close together. Go slow, around grass. Understand?” That was the only authority Wikus held over the group, being the responsible for keeping them alive while their traveled this treacherous land.
Trying to recover his breath, he’d move behind the wagon again to deposit his basket of flowers inside, before he unrolled the whip from his naked torso. The whip was not as long as usual, for Wikus had realized the length of his previous whip made it extremely ineffective in battle, and after some training, he had realized what a 6’ whip was capable of doing. The day was clear and was moderately hot, yet the sunlight was to fade away in a couple of bells. They had to traverse these patches and avoid camping inside. Thus, the group slowly began compressing, and keeping the silence as much as possible as the menacing tall grass stood closer and closer.
Thanks to Gossamer for this amazing template!
