Do Clones Sleep Beneath Fake Stars?
It was a good day outside, Boy decided watching the pale white reflection glisten from the rippling waters of the rushing creek staring right back. It was the first time of the year like this, and had sorely been missed among the heavy snows of the winter, continuing through most of spring. Even the fish could sense this change in the air as they continued on their ritualistic migration pattern, yet somehow did so more cheerfully. Already, the thick white powder was mostly melted away down into the stream to be saved for the next rain and yet another miserable afternoon. So were the ways of the world and Boy saw no reason to change this. Boy's little stream was swelling with this newfound lifeblood, surging upwards onto the moss banks, covering the occasional forget-me-not taking root in the moist soil. The morning-star itself could barely penetrate the dense cover of trees that forced a dark shadow upon the form curled up against the trunk of a pine. She was rather tall for her age, with completely white skin and shoulder length hair, an image of an angel broken only by piercing red eyes framed amidst a delicately composed face. Very little could be discerned of her form due to the robes, gloves and wide brimmed hat that covered her body, all of which matched here perfectly white face. Boy was rather enjoying her time out of the house, wishing that just for a moment she could case off her long white overcoat and feel the faint sun, if just for a moment. With a flick of her wrist, the makeshift fishing pole in her grasp tossed the crude hook made from a sewing needle and birds feathers back into the water, with no real expectation for the seventy-first attempt to fare any better than the seventy before it. It was abundantly clear that the fly was waterlogged and no longer even remained above the rushing top of the water and for that matter even if one of the fish were to take bite, she had no idea what to do with it. Taking it home was out of the question as simply leaving placed her on thin ice as it stood while tossing it back into the water would seem like just a waste of time, making the past hour and a half lose all of it's tranquility and seem to be more of a battle against nature then the break from life it had been. One such form of aquatic life paused in front of the submerged mess of metal and down before continuing along it's way. She pulled the pole back for seventy-two and it stopped, almost as if on it's own violation before she could cast it forward. "Boy, I want to go home." her sister stated, hand firmly gripped around the end of the stick. "It's dirty, cold and still wet out here. I don't see any reason for mother to make me do this," she paused to jerk away the pole from Boy and snap it in two. "It almost seemed like you were enjoying yourself, now quit being such a child and take me back to the house." She finished her demand and turned her rather large form in the wrong direction attempting to get her bearing. Failing amidst the large evergreens that covered the little wooded area that had been her forced home for the afternoon, Codie turned to her sister and tapped her foot. "Well? What are you waiting for?" she yelled and kicked up a clump of dirt onto Boy's large white hat, who still sat next to her creek watching the fish swim by, half of her stick still in hand. "I'm coming," Boy uttered half heartedly, gathering her robe up and shaking off the dirt.
In all reality, the walk home from the shady vale was a mile - give or take a few hundred yards. However, in the mind of Boy it took all afternoon to navigate through the forest path with Codie following. Without even glancing back she knew that the older of the two was watching every single step of the slender form picking it's way through the undergrowth. Waiting for the slip of foot or hesitation of direction that would give cause to berate this thing who must be followed. Insult and pick apart to establish the master and dog relationship that Codie seemed to favor so much. Boy never slipped though, and soon enough the trees disappeared behind the forced pair and a whole new type of foliage opened up before her. The Godard family garden had a rather eerie feel to it, with exotic flora placed by hand with such a painful precision one couldn't help but halt in awe no matter how familiar the sight. Plants taken from afar lined the many trails through it, all of which eventually leading to a pond in the center - which in the tradition of the place was stocked with a new type of fish every year. Both figures picked their way through the cobblestone path and to the front doors of the home. Supposedly, this massive dwelling had served as a field hospital during the Civil War and carried with it the beauty that only age could bestow. The door frame rose high above the head of the girl, but opened easily enough to her touch. Inside stood Codie's mother, Gisela who speaking with one of the housekeepers. She was rather attractive, especially for a man of her husbands age and mannerisms. She shared the same black hair and dark brown eyes as her larger daughter, as well as the attitude of a true survivor in a game of evolution. “Codie, did you enjoy yourself this morning?” she asked. About now is when Boy tended to let her mind drift, as it was an excellent time to ignore her surroundings and just think. To begin with, the daisy that had been picked before the winter took its toll still needed to be watered. Her family had expanded so much effort into keeping their garden alive amidst the unnaturally frigid temperatures of the past few months and it must be admitted that the work paid paid off, yet she was hard pressed to keep a single flower alive. It is all really rather annoying. “Boy. Do you have any plans before the dinner tonight?” Gisela interrupted. Dinner. Boy had almost forgotten.
In all reality, the walk home from the shady vale was a mile - give or take a few hundred yards. However, in the mind of Boy it took all afternoon to navigate through the forest path with Codie following. Without even glancing back she knew that the older of the two was watching every single step of the slender form picking it's way through the undergrowth. Waiting for the slip of foot or hesitation of direction that would give cause to berate this thing who must be followed. Insult and pick apart to establish the master and dog relationship that Codie seemed to favor so much. Boy never slipped though, and soon enough the trees disappeared behind the forced pair and a whole new type of foliage opened up before her. The Godard family garden had a rather eerie feel to it, with exotic flora placed by hand with such a painful precision one couldn't help but halt in awe no matter how familiar the sight. Plants taken from afar lined the many trails through it, all of which eventually leading to a pond in the center - which in the tradition of the place was stocked with a new type of fish every year. Both figures picked their way through the cobblestone path and to the front doors of the home. Supposedly, this massive dwelling had served as a field hospital during the Civil War and carried with it the beauty that only age could bestow. The door frame rose high above the head of the girl, but opened easily enough to her touch. Inside stood Codie's mother, Gisela who speaking with one of the housekeepers. She was rather attractive, especially for a man of her husbands age and mannerisms. She shared the same black hair and dark brown eyes as her larger daughter, as well as the attitude of a true survivor in a game of evolution. “Codie, did you enjoy yourself this morning?” she asked. About now is when Boy tended to let her mind drift, as it was an excellent time to ignore her surroundings and just think. To begin with, the daisy that had been picked before the winter took its toll still needed to be watered. Her family had expanded so much effort into keeping their garden alive amidst the unnaturally frigid temperatures of the past few months and it must be admitted that the work paid paid off, yet she was hard pressed to keep a single flower alive. It is all really rather annoying. “Boy. Do you have any plans before the dinner tonight?” Gisela interrupted. Dinner. Boy had almost forgotten.