(Untitled)

[pink_sombrera]

Sheemie is downstairs, with the kitten on his shoulder.

The call is stronger than it was yesterday, so much stronger, and the song grows louder by the hour.

And he knows.

They go today.

Last chance to say goodbye, folken.

Comments

[lt_naraht]

Naraht is coming in for a bit of supper when he spots a familiar face.

Familiar face, but no clue as to the name. Perhaps it is time to rectify that.

He glides over.

"Good evening, sir. I am so glad to find you again now that I can talk and understand language once more."

[pink_sombrera]

Sheemie turns, and blinks at the much-bigger Horta.

"Thee're well again now, sai?"

[lt_naraht]

Naraht sighs, emitting a small cloud of vapor.

"Indeed I am. Compared to others aflicted by the Other, I got off light...but that is not an exprience I would wish on anyone."

His tone lightens as he says, "Anyway, I really wanted to thank you for...well, providing an outlet, as it were. I would also be very honored to know your name."

[pink_sombrera]

"Sheemie Ruiz, sai, and we were well-met."

[lt_naraht]

Naraht caught the 'sai', earlier, but many here seem to have picked up that term. However...given the rest of his speech...

"Well-met, indeed." He says. "Tell me...do you know a young human by the name of Susan Delgado? Your...accent is rather similar."

[pink_sombrera]

"Aye." He brightens, a little. "We were children together."

[lt_naraht]

"I see. I've only spoken to her a few times, but she is a very charming entity. I really should wander by the stables more often to talk to her."

Poor, out-of-the-loop Horta.

[pink_sombrera]

Sheemie flinches, slightly.

"...thee'd best make it today, sai. And in the bar, not the stables, mayhap."

[lt_naraht]

Naraht's body twiches in suprise. "Why? Is something wrong?"

He remembers something. "Is she going off to help with the war on Andrew's world?"

[pink_sombrera]

"Nay, not that. But... we're to leave."

[lt_naraht]

"Leave?" Naraht asks, puzzled. "For good?"

Naraht knows he's missing something.

[pink_sombrera]

"Aye. It's our time to move on, do'ee ken?" His eyes stray to the door, then he forces himself to look away, with difficulty. "The clearing calls."

[lt_naraht]

One might be glum about leaving a pleasant establishment, but this seems a bit much. Not to mention 'the clearing calls' is said with a tone that implies something more than a simple area-of-no-trees. Naraht becomes very still.

"You mean 'moving on' in the most final way?" he asks quietly.

[pink_sombrera]

Sheemie nods, silently.

[lt_naraht]

The silence stretches out for long seconds. Then Naraht glides closer and gently reaches out to touch Sheemie's hand.

I'm sorry, he sends, as if to a fellow Horta. Along with those two words come a melange of regret for a friendship that might have been long, gratitude for the little of this man he has known and hope...for Naraht knows this is not the end.

[pink_sombrera]

"Nay, it's... we'll have peace. And find our friends again, in time."