|
|
Post by Milkshake on Apr 15, 2014 5:42:09 GMT
|
|
|
|
Post by Milkshake on Apr 15, 2014 5:48:08 GMT
DESTINED MEETING
Swanmon was diligent and caring in certain ways, at least towards the cute little babies sent to her from the core of the digital world. It was a cycle of life that everyone went through, each fallen digimon, no matter how high it’s rank, although its experiences and memories would be flushed away, its data would regenerate and thus reborn into unveiled purity. To her, every digimon was born innocent, only experience and environment altered its personality. This particular Swanmon was in charge of the northern district, where weathers were cold and blizzards were common as rain. All digitama she received were hatched into babies that could at least sustain the mild coolness of the mountain breeze and through time and practice, would cope with the most extreme of climates around.
“Now be quite everyone, take some rest and I’ll be back as soon as I’m done with my chores!” she called back to the nursery school not far away from the egg farm. Little heads were peeking out from the doorway and giggles could be heard from the inside. Upon hearing Swanmon’s words, they burst into jolly laughter scrambling back to their seats in class. Today’s lesson was an easy one involved learning frost herbs and berries, most berries were edible around this part of region so she wouldn’t worry her dearies would eat bad food. This is the wilderness they were talking about and nothing was taken for granted. Once you’re pampered, you wouldn’t have lasted for a month without the unequivocal love of such digimon as Swanmon.
The snow white enclosed land was prettified by eggs of various ornamented patterns arranged neatly in rows. Unlike the southern parts of the world which warmness filled the air, the northern bore a significant contrast in terms of temperature and humidity, and although digimon that were fated to be born here would endure, the digitamas would still need some warming to be able to hatch. Swanmon had done a good job in finding a suitable plane to set up her nursery, including her duty of searching a comfortable farm in consideration of hatching season. She scanned the field contently, her proudest achievement stayed the same, her self-knitted herb shrub nest under each and every egg.
It was nearly sun down Swanmon was about to clear up the farm and put the eggs into the nursery, when the temperature dropped it would surely freeze the eggs for eternity. The Caretaker opened the knapsack. Humming to herself she performed the White Marie, flapping her wings manipulating air currents under her arms as gently as possible as to not accidentally destroy the eggs. A gush of wind began to form around the area and eggs from a part of the farm started floating. With a gentle swipe, the eggs were flying slowly towards and into the knapsack one by one. She closed the knapsack again and while holding a folded blanket, she swung her knapsack over her shoulder. The eggs weren’t that heavy, it was the knapsack that was not that big, she feared if she put more eggs in it the eggs would be squash one another. So the remaining eggs on the field would have to wait for a next trip.
Swanmon stopped dead in her track by a sudden movement. She swore her knapsack just shook by itself. Although the wind was getting more violent at the moment, it was yet to be strong enough to blow things of this weight. She was panicking on the inside. What if she had accidentally scooped up a wild digimon into her sack? Her being a worrywart had doubtlessly degraded her decision making. She took a big breath and started putting her sack down, she held her palms together for an instant before she decided to reopen the sack. The digimon should’ve been a small one since it fitted in the sack, she could use her blanket in wing to have it blindfolded or even wrap it up, she didn’t want trouble.
The digimon had not jumped up so she put up her courage to rummage the knapsack herself, all for the safety of the babies, and was somewhat shocked at what she found. In the middle of the pile of eggs one was cracked. “O’no o’no o’no!” what was she to do? What could she do? Her nightmare had finally come true. Placing a wing on her beak she wheeled left and right. Great. She just had to falter at a situation of emergency. Just great. The egg continued cracking until a huge crooked line formed on the shell then it stopped. Swanmon took the egg in her wings and gazed at it sorrowfully. “What have I just done?” having realized her mistake a little too late-- she shouldn’t have put too many eggs at a time into the sack.
CRACK.
A sudden movement within the shell and a piece of eggshell came flying at her face. Swanmon open an eye, then both. She was rewarded a returning gaze from a pair of adorable jelly doe eyes.
She blinked.
It blinked.
Her dread turned into amazement as she examined the brownish blob of slime. The egg was not cracked, it was hatched. It was the first time she felt such relief that she started chuckling to herself, rubbing little tears that were struggling to fall. She noted next time she would not take more than a quarter of the eggs at once. It was a funny misjudgment on her part, she nearly had a heart attack this time and she wouldn’t be so oblivion to repeat it another time. At least not in a long time. The hatched egg wrapped in blanket, she picked up her knapsack and headed indoor. After placing the remaining eggs into the nursery, she would save her time tending this little creature first before proceeding to other chores in hand. |
|
|
|
Post by Milkshake on Apr 19, 2014 6:15:39 GMT
Something stirred. A crack. Then a blinding light shone through.
She squinted her eyes as they were pained by the whiteness of the light. She had never encountered this sort of feeling before, not that she had any before, so to say. It was so.. real(what does this word even mean?). And quite painful at the same time, which urged a sudden ball of an odd feeling from the inside of her throat. She hadn’t knew how the mechanism worked at first, but she did try opening her mouth wide. As if it was a natural thing to do, she had never thought a loud cry could lift stress, but as soon as her brain digested her new found expertise, it was her job to fortify it, right? And so she started her first cry. Her own irritating voice had made her stirred with discomfort.
Keep off that disturbing sound, she wanted sleep! She cried louder.
"Shush, honey. It’s alright, mommy will always be with you.” It was a different voice this time, it was soft and caring, with the tone held a soothing effect, like a lullaby. Surprisingly for her, the irritating cry disappeared as she curiously looked up only to find big beady blue eyes peering down at her form. There was a white thing stuck on the protruding long yellow spike from between its eyes, making her look funny. She did not hesitate to chuckle a little. The other was amused by her sudden switch of mood, she took off the white addition from her yellow spike and examined it curiously, “Ah, it’s just an eggshell.” She smiled. Her focus was back on the baby.
“Mama!” the brown blob jumped and nuzzled the white creature which granted a giggle out of ticklishness in response.
The white mother-like creature looked back for a while searching for something behind her. Then she turned her neck around and held up a feathery hand, on her white palm was an object of a translucent red, very round. “Here, eat this. This is the arurin cherry that brings happiness and peace to the consumer,” a look of suspicion was clearly written on the face of the brown slime. “Just a tiny bite? I promise it tastes great.” The baby was toothless, but the fruit was soft enough to chew without aid of the teeth. The white creature seemed to be having a jovial moment persuading the little one to eat. Seeing that no harm was coming, the little slime sniffed, took a bite, and squealed at the sudden sweetness conquering her mouth. Then she took the remaining bites and chew of the rest of the fruit. “Alu, alu!” “Right, dearie. It’s an arurin, good for curing flues too!” The white creature laughed.
The winged creature cradled her up from the basket and gently placed her in a small cotton hammock above. “You need some rest, dearie. Save the fun for tomorrow and have a good night sleep. Sweet dreams, my dear.” She placed a peck of kiss on her forehead and blew off the light. The slime reluctantly looked at her retreating silhouette before she was lulled into an endless myth of slumber. |
|
