[b]A Soruli Story: The Many Eyes Above[/b]

[i]That first night was the hardest.

When all had collected to rest in the large mass of limbs and warmth, they did not expect the night sky as it was.

It was so beautiful, so terrifying, so filled with eyes looking back down that it imbedded an idea within each head that rose to look up.

To some there was a fear. An irrational, primal fear that those Soruli gave no thought, no name, yet allowed to overtake them and make them run and hide.

Some in the past ran to the tree, others dug shallows holes in the ground and covered themselves in leaves. There were those that just kept running and running until they were stopped by exhaustion or engulfed by the unknown.

Those that were not afraid quickly realized what the sky eyes were as they found and chased after kin who had been afraid.

This is that the night sky is many eyes staring downward to the earth. These are eyes of family and friends past, who are concerned for those currently walking. When one dies, they then watch from the night sky-[/i]

“For what pwoo-pus?” Interrupted a little voice with a curious chirping.

“And what of Ima-Pa?” Questioned another little voice in a lower pitched chirp.

“Ima-Pa got us berry paints and the flowers!”

“Je-Re is testing the new dusts!”

The Soruli interrupted, named Mahl, looked at the large collection of little ones cuddled up close as their chirpings of questions, answers and observations continued on. Irritation for a moment flashed through her red eyes before amusement settled on her face.

Mahl shook her head of pure white fur and feather as she let out a kind cooing sound, “Little Kin of Little Chirps, shh.”

This caused a chain reaction as the some of the panicked little kin spouted words and phrases instead of quieting.

“Shh-shh, quiet!”
“Do not bite the speaker.”
“Listen. Listen.”
“Question in head then mouth.”
“You’re too young to nibble that way.”

The voices and phrases, though high pitched coming from their little bodies, were most certainly not owned by them.

~

[b]Two Years After The Awakening
The Soruli of The Home Tree
Population: 36 + ? [/b]
(? - On account of many pregnancies currently active.)

[b]Technological Development:[/b]
[b]Animal Husbandry:[/b] 2/4
[b]"Herbal Medicine":[/b] 1/3


~

Ima had discovered many things that first day.

Odd things of many colors and kinds that hung from the trees, the vines and grew up from the ground. Large plant leaves that could hold all of these things and allow them to be carried back. A creature or two that moved or flew in fashions questionable.

Most of the encountered flora and fauna were peaceful. A slow approach, an offered fruit or nut in hand and that peace was kept.

This was one of the horrific kind.

Batting his staff left and right to keep thrashing vine-like things away, as he fell backward from the branch a call exiting his mouth, “Mica! Cor!”

Taloned hands caught him on the descent to the forest floor, pulling him onto another branch as he huffed and gazed back up at the treetops where the false vines still moves and searched for him.

Cooing and kissing at his forehead, Cor embraced him as Mica made a worried sound and gazed upward to the vines as well.

“Stop this madness.” Cor pleaded.

“I must catch it’s sound so that I may give it peace.” Ima patiently pointed out, ignoring the stinging sensation across his chest and other portions of his body as Cor’s strong arms tightened.

“Plants make no sound like beasts, we went over this.” Mica pointed out from his other side.

“These beasts just look like plants.” Ima again patiently responded, lifting moving a hand to pet Cor’s head. “I will find this one’s sound and quell its wild heart.”

“Whilst we are to keep catching you at each failure and let our own hearts stop their beating?” Mica made a scoffing sound and looked around, producing soft outcries and listening before turning back. 

Ima chose to not respond, watching the false vines reposition themselves to hang and wrap around branches below.

~~~

Carried on Cor’s back, Ima gazed up at The Home Tree that his people had woke up under in their drugged ecstasy now helping hold up varying structures made of spare branches, leaves and twisted vines.

Little kin ran up to meet them, chirping and dancing about in happiness in the colors of rainbows, bodies covered in various colors of dusts and paints. 

Mahl casually tailed the group of children, similarly colorful as the little ones, if not more so due to her pale skin and fur. Her red eyes looked upon the trio as a coo of concern exited her mouth.

“Another encounter with the false vines…”
~

Soruli looked over and up from their activities around the tree as Ima was carried to the central area to rest upon a collection of soft leaves. Some were grinding nuts and berries to make special pastes for healing. Others making special dusts for play and sensual pleasures.

There were a few that were simply beating drums and singing songs to each other, providing an upbeat tone to the occasion as wildlife scurried about, eating from taloned hands or little leaf mats placed for them on the ground.

To the sounds of the music made some trained with their staffs, swinging and moving as if the length of wood were an extension of their bodies.

The soft pads of Mica’s taloned fingers rubbed some special paste into Ima’s exposed flesh as he sat upon a small provided log and contemplated.

“You have been this way ever since we lost Su.” Mica whispered gently, turning her eyes to gaze at Cor as he played with the little kin. “It’s foolish, Ima. We all had little kin to before the end. Her blood lives. Her stories live through us.”

Ima’s own voice came out in a calm drawl, “And when we die?”

“Our little will pass on her story.”

“They never knew her. They could never know her from just stories from our mouths.”

Mica flinched and Ima paused in his venom. Turning his head to look at her, his head lowering to rub against hers in apology.

The Soruli adapt the shells of certain nuts and the bark of trees into plates and bowls. 

Next to Mica, one bowl held a small amount of pink dust. Ima extended a hand and collected a portion, holding it palm up before blowing it gently into Mica’s face.

As she gasped and then breathed it in, her eyelids lowered and her body swayed to the still beating drums.

She blew a larger portion back into his face and as the colors of the world streamed together to a single pin-point within his sight, their bodies rose and began dancing. Bodies close and still too far, breaths short but filled with life.

Thoughts melted away. Worries melted away. Minds melded and bodies simply moved together. 

~