Shroud was a particularly optimistic fellow, who could make sweet lemon drink out of anything. While his trip to the mountains with the last calling had been filled with pain, peril, many no good terrifying things, peril, pain, and especially pain, time had passed, and he no longer recalled them much, if at all
this is called repression.
He now remembered only good things when he thought back upon it, the best of things - the excitement, the adventure, the moving sense of camaderie and purpose, and, most of all, the many wonderful friends he had made (including, for a dreamy moment, the
soft and cuddly Friend), including Real Big Fish, the very leader of this expedition, the great Totoma who was a fish, not a bear
no - no, don't think of bears, not now, not bears - and definitely not the z-word -, especially his lovely little not-ghost tortoise, Snow.
(This is the bit where, somewhere out in the Swamp, Beauty Past Compare very formidably screamed over the fact that the tortoise was more memorable than what was clearly Shroud's first and bestest friend, moi.)
[imgleft]
https://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/imag ... uncert.png[/imgleft]Yes, he loved his little not-ghost tortoise, Snow. Somehow, she had followed him back from the mountains - such a long and arduous way, for a little tortoise! - and with him she had stayed ever since. Many zikwa seemed drawn to the journey this time, including his dear father, so instead of leaving his dear mother in their caves with darling Maggot, he had brought her to the Mother's Club, who would take solicitous care of her, he knew, and brought both darling Maggot (who absolutely had to return to her homelands…caves…homecaves…too) and little Snow (if Maggot was to come, of course Snow must; they were never apart, and she would be so lonely) along with him this time.
He was excited beyond measure for this journey with his father and Take Root - he could think of none more suited for this journey back into the deep caves than his father, the venerable Zikwa historian, Buried Alive. If he had not told the old Zikwa stories and explained the Zikwa ways, over and over, more and more, to the young ones in the Swamp - why, Shroud might not have known how to be a Zikwa at all! He might have known how to be a Kimeti, with his Kimeti mother and his half-Kimeti blood, but it was his father and Zikwa family who made him a Zikwa befitting of the Zikwa-esque form he took. And, most preciously, it was his father who had brought from the caves his greatest joy (along with Snow, of course, he loved all his children equally), his beautiful, darling caveworm, Maggot.
Speaking of, Maggot was making the clicking noises again that indicated that Snow had fallen behind.
The only problem with his little Snow was that it was rather slow.
That was to be expected, for a tortoise.
Perhaps if Shroud could see, he would be better able to nudge it along, but he could not, so he could only feel about, and rely on darling Maggot's clicky noises to double back for Snow.
"I'll catch up!" he called to his father.
Snow must be around here somewhere…
Anyway, he knew the cave journey would be Just As Great!! as the mountain Obelisk. c:
[imgright]
https://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/imag ... uncert.png[/imgright]
*******
A...significant amount of time later, Shroud finally emerged, Maggot corralling Snow with her long...body, to join his family.
"I'm ready!"
This was not going to be a problem at all.
