Creatures Caves

Just a project i've been brewing up for ages and ages... I'm rather fond of it now. It's not whimsical at all and actually rather serious, so bear with me. I don't do kiddy. [nwink]

I didn't proofread it so far. Who has time to proofread 1,183 words?!

I plan to update this until I consider it finished, so bear with the horribly long posts. Half of the reason I'm writing this is because I'm extremely rusty and need lots and lots and lots and lots of practice to be happy with myself. Constructive Critique welcomed!

Culbri stared at the pinwheel ball that sat between his legs, his toes digging into the dirt, out of sight behind the artificial ferns that filled the center of the room. He had nothing to do all day, and tossing a ball around had become tedious and repetitive.

He'd tossed that ball around a million times. He'd kicked it; He'd kicked it with friends, he'd kicked it alone, he'd kicked it at the hand, he'd kicked it at other norns, he'd kicked it off ledges, he'd kicked it into the pond. Nothing helped. Nothing satisfied this ever-present need to do something, something, anything.

It wasn't just the ball that was boring. If it was, he could just play with the toy spaceship. No, it was everything. Monotony was the bane of his existence. Kicking balls, pulling grazer tails, dropping ants on the girl's heads in their sleep; when he was young, he could entertain himself for hours doing this and then take a long, fulfilling nap afterwards and start the day all over again.

But things were different, years later. His mate, Zoe, left him months ago for another. Perhaps he was suffering from depression, or loneliness, or both. He often spent his time in the Bridge, looking out the windows in the Medical Bay and into deep space, his mind wandering, thinking about life. When the hand caught him, he'd be dragged into the Norn Terrarium against his will. The first few times this happened, he fought against it, kicking the hand's underside, pulling, biting. He'd get away at times, for a moment, but the hand would eventually grab his collar and pick him up, buzzing it's way along until it was at it's destination.

But then he stopped fighting against it. It was a waste of his energy, and it always won. Now a simple command with it's strange, mechanical voice, was enough to send him back. Perhaps the hand was preventing sickness or illness from spreading. He had no idea, and frankly, he didn't care.
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A female norn came from the other side of the ferns. She stared at him with a pair of big, green eyes, the curls from her hair brushed just slightly away. She smiled slightly upon eye contact, but it was a nervous smile. Dirt covered her sides in a thin layer, perhaps from play. Her eyes drifted from him, to the pinwheel ball between his legs, back to him. She sighed quietly and sat next to him, handing him an apple.

He took it from her, taking a casual bite into it and leaning back, his paw finding itself on the top of the ball.

"Hey there, you."
"You should take a bath, Rose. Look at you." Culbri gestured at her; she grinned.
"I know, I know, but I'd need to go all the way to the desert for that, and I don't want to. So I'm waiting for the young ones to finish up. Hopefully they're not throwing cores into the water again and making us fish it out."
"Well, if it happens again, It's not going to be me."
"Are you going to share your ball?" Rose gestured at the pinwheel ball; he picked it up, and tossed it toward her gently. Rose was always fun loving, happy; so unlike him. She ruffled his hair and came out through the ferns, yelling the others 'Found it!'. He laid his head on his knee and closed his eyes. At least, out of all the norns he knew, he had a sister who cared for him even through the rough times they had in the past together.

When he was young, his mother was always with him, supporting him. He had fond memories of her warmth and the comfort she provided him. In particular, he remembered the softness of her chest where he often laid his head to sleep in the quiet darkness of the learning room, her fur brushing gently against his nose every time he breathed in. The sound of the learning machine always drifting away, further and further into the distance every minute, until finally it disappeared and he found himself in another world, picking bumpy purple berries off of strange trees. He always remembered the taste of those berries; a strange mixture of sweet and sour, with a pulpy center full of seeds in the middle. They tasted so much better than the bitter apples he was used to.

There was something odd about his mother. She was the sweetest norn he'd ever met, with a heart that was pure gold, but she was distant. Her mind was always on something else, something horribly distant that he could never find out. Back then, he would ask her what it was, but she would always shake her head in response and pull him close to her. Now that was gone, he still had that same question: Why?

She was beautiful. Her hair was curled into tight, sandy-blonde hair. Dark, brown spots covered most of her body, and her lower half was a marbled, smooth green. Her tail was shorter than most norns, and she often found the hairs on the end dirtied by the dirt of the Norn Terrarium, sometimes with an occasional stick. Culbri remembered her daily ritual upon waking up; the first thing she would do was head to the pond and wash it out, then comb it with the claws of her front paws.

Rose came in the picture later. She had a different father; a strange red norn with a wealth of intelligence and stories to give. He was the hand's pet, and was the closest thing to a father he had ever known. He came from a yellow, mustard-colored egg that came from the hand's machine, and the Hand even let him name himself; Eem.

The hand constantly followed Eem around, telling him to 'push tool' or 'rest' and giving him tickles when the command was fulfilled. It was a strange thing to watch, as the other norns had never been given such affection from the hand. Eem had an odd opinion of it. To him, it was a matter of enjoying it. He didn't mind the attention it gave him from the others, and in fact he enjoyed it. He was everyone's favorite norn, and he would spend time telling stories passed down from the hand in the same place Culbri was sitting now.

Culbri's favorite story was of the norns who swam like fish. He imagined them when he wandered far away into the aquarium and looked into the glass dome, swimming with the cuttlefish and clownfish and eating the orange seeds of the sponges there. It consumed him so greatly that he once took an elevator down into the other sea to attempt to; the hand found him before it was too late, picked him up by his collar and resuscitated him. That's when the hard reality hit him that it was only a story. He still felt pangs of sadness in his chest now, when he watched the cuttlefish change colors in their bowl.

Something in him told him that Eem just made it up, and that the popularity and reward got to his head.