Two: Saga
Consequences
Matching pose and face of fear Lucille races through the forest alongside Sloth. Moving with the grace, fluidity and primate instinct, Lucille uses her gibbon physique to get to her Aunt’s muscle gathering party. Her Aunt scolds her and chases her around the small bit of end territory creek habitat.
Her aunt reaches for a branch that breaks under her weight and falls. Lucille laughs and begins running again. Her aunt snakes the rogue branch in front of her, tripping her niece. When Lucille gets up her aunt stands over her showing her stern demeanor, but also a bit of concern and worry. She picks Lucille up and hugs her as she goes to grab her two young daughters. Lucille helps her aunt carry her share of the clams and snails as her aunt holds one cousin and has another cling to her back.
Domain
Lucille is finally home and places her basket of shore shellfish next to her aunt’s who’s hand dangled over Lucille’s head. Lucille as predicted by Martha rose up too quickly smacking right into it. The pain radiated a bit as she rubbed the spot before looking at her aunt grilling her teeth at her niece.
“He wu yu wia epepe yu uiy no upiwa. Ho yepwha. Yu uiy wuwhapiwhi wia epepe he uiy pipepe yu oapawapoy. Yu pahweyo he ewpiwa uiyhi pahweyo he. He no yu oapawhu wia epepe yo uiy he oapawhapuh” Martha barked
I watch you even when you’re not here and don't forget that, You can be old but I am always your aunt. I worry about you like I worry about them. (pointing at her children) I’m not your mother but you are my child. Are you ok? I’m sorry
Martha rubbed the sore spot on Lucille’s head and pulled her in as the two held each other. Her aunt was warm and smelled like water and green. Lucille bowed to her aunt and then trotted off to find her friends still feeling her own heartbeat where her head had collided with her aunt’s hand. It was her friends that spotted her with a short burst of cheers and hoots as they welcomed her over.
Challenges
The energy of friends was enough to push off any scolding as the excitement of one young sasquatch spurred the others on. They followed Mertz, not normally the one guiding the group, but he had used electromagnetic relay to convey images of where some of the last of the pomegranates of the season were. The group was teeming with excitement with the majority of pomegranates being picked already. They had walked hundreds of trees on a well known path until Mertz went about 75 trees off to the east. He was pushing aleppo branches out of his way looking up for the same memory he had shared with his troop mates. Ricardo knocked on Mertz’s shoulder squatch-smiling at him as he pointed up to the tallest pomegranate tree they’d ever seen. Three times bigger than normal Mertz was right at the top of the now dead, past due pomegranate tree. There was a round of cheers and excitement before they fell silent looking up at the fruit bundle then looking at each other.
Ethel had taken two strides towards the tree before Appleby rushed slingshotting herself through the branches. She moved with grace and quickness getting two thirds of the way to the goal before a dry branch couldn’t support her, sending her to the ground. A cloud of dirt and dust shot into the sky as Appleby plummeted into a palm bush. Another young male sasquatch ran over to help her up as the group watched her stumble. A bit shaken up but not seriously hurt beyond some swelling and bruises she rejoined the others realizing they were all staring. Lucille had just passed the broken stump of branch that betrayed Appleby but now every branch creaked. The sound was bordering on being loud definitive cracks with each careful placement of weight on the next. It was as if the jungle had fallen silent all spectating to see who would hold out the longest, the withering tree or the witful youngster.
Her stance was her right foot precariously grasping the extending branch and her left gripping the main trunk of the tree. Her pupils had finally aligned with the sweet mauve gradient spheres. The extension of her arm made the wood whine as she would pick one of the remaining eight and dropped them down to be caught by friends below. While reaching for the last one the branch supporting her right gave out as two hands worth of tree beneath her disconnected. Fingers beginning to squish the gentle pods of the fruit as the pull towards earth begins to take hold Lucille’s face grows focused and targeted. Still partially connected to the tree but tilting by the second Lucille launches her body over to a smaller lower tree
—-WIP—-
Out of season fruit sitting at the top of a dead tree. The young are excited to possibly get a sweet treat weeks after the rest have been depleted but the upper branches of the dead tree
Fruit is fermented from being left alone long enough for sugars to convert to alcohol. The one leading will fall after grabbing an unstable vine that slips. Lucille will go up there and collect the bundle for the group. The young get drunk
The overlap of territories of apes where
—-Continued—-
Sneak Away
Lucille wakes up in the middle of the night and sneaks off again. She wanders through the woods waiting to hear familiar sounds. Lucille walks along streams and sleeping marsupials until she gets to a wide creek where she keeps her momentum to launch herself across it. When she lands she’s no more than 25 trees from the vantage point that overlooks the large communal area of the no-hairs. The wind blows in her direction keeping her concealed from detection. Learning from her previous mistakes she will no longer name them. That’s until through the woods from the shuffle of leaves Apawayo the last she named shuffles back disheveled and in a horrid condition. The members of her tribe rush to her as she tries to explain what happens. Lucille watches on intently fully understanding the upcoming conversation and what’ll they be talking about despite not understanding their grunts and gestations. The community cries out in gasps and sobs at the loss of so many people.
Observed but not Heard
The thing Lucille can’t have any understanding of is that Awuuwuopopa, the female that was barking orders was the leader of the hunting party as well as the tribe. Not just that, but most higher ranking tribe members were killed in that earlier attack. With no one leading the Shaman takes the mantle of trying to quell the other tribespeople. The male pulls a few people into the canopy structure and goes about ritualistic methods. Lucille tries to really focus in but can’t see anything under the structure. Instead she focuses on Apawayo which she now calls Fast Cat from the speed of her surviving the encounter last time.
Fast cat sits on her own. It seems like she’s not very integrated into the community. She’s also dealing with witnessing the death of everyone she had left with this morning. An elder-female comes to her and places her arm around Fast Cat. Fast cat cries into her shoulder and the elder holds her. Another elder-female comes and wraps bandages around the wounds of Fast Cat. She winces in pain as they communicate. Lucille’s silhouette in the treeline drops in a somber tone.
