Theme 69: Pass Slowly

[failegaidin]

Today's theme:

Pass Slowly1. Submit your drabble that fits this theme as a comment to this post. It should be between 100-300 words, if you go over/under a bit that's fine! If it's longer than say 400 words, I ask that you post on your journal or fanfiction.net and then submit the link to this post. If you find that your story is going to be very

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[rattyjol]

Fandom: Animorphs
Claim: Elfangor & family
Rating: G
Drabbles completed so far: 22/100

Nearly a year has passed since I last stood in this field. (In Earth years it's more like five.) It's all the same as I remember -- the grass, the sky, my hala fala on the hill's crest and the family scoop at its foot. The scoop that housed three, and then two -- and now three again.

The child stands before me, clumsy and long-legged, stalk eyes wiggling in what I believe meant to be a threatening manner and his bladeless stub of a tail waving over his head.

< Who are you? > he demands of me, his legs spread wide for balance he has yet to master. < Go away. > He is, any way you look at it, adorable.

(I wonder, for one moment, whether my son will be the same. In my head, I hear Loren laughing, as if it's the most ridiculous thing in the world, and of course he will be, Elfangor, he's yours, after all.)

I smile with my eyes, lowering my tail blade as a sign of peace. I am no threat to him, and never will be. < Don't you recognize me, little brother? > We have never met, the two of us, but I recall the wishflower in my quarters, and that strand of golden light.

His head tips to the side in that babyish fashion some Andalite children keep well into adolescence, and the gesture is so very human that I want to cry. < Are you . . . a spirit? >

I laugh. < No, little brother. I'm very much alive. >

Nearly a year has passed since I last stood in this field, and though little is different, nothing is the same.