[audio // 3]
A story!
[There are odd organic noises all through this post, strange squelchy sounds that are almost too soft to be noted. At high points of the telling, they might get louder, but generally they run just like an underlying current.]
A Lion and a Bear seized a Kid at the same moment, and fought fiercely for its possession. When they had fearfully lacerated each other and were faint from the long combat, they lay down exhausted with fatigue. A Fox, who had gone around them at a distance several times, saw them both stretched on the ground with the Kid lying untouched in the middle. He ran in between them, and seizing the Kid, scampered off as fast as he could. The Lion and the Bear saw him, but not being able to get up, said, "Woe be to us, that we should have fought and belabored ourselves only to serve the turn of a Fox."
In short: one man has all the toil, and another all the profit.
Everyone here seems so bothered! So caught up, so prepared to, hm-m, jump at the slightest of sounds. The drop of a hat. So quick to make threats, to harm without a proper-- [A soft wet thud, like something being dropped on the ground.] --examination. Impassioned children, such bold souls. So quick to answer to threats, too. And the purpose?
Do you die? Some! Most--aah, cling, and remain. One handed, perhaps, or no hands at all. And what is the longest record of return? A month? Three? A year? It's a good show, but when the entrances and exits are unclear--aaah, how annoying. I'll stand back. Waiting is sometimes as good as action--though those that have promised me entertainment have bored me so far. Even the most patient of dogs can grow quickly towards boredom. Unless there are volunteers: clowns to caper?
[And, just before the audio turns off--quietly:] Noki.
[And a pause, as if waiting for an immediate response. Just silence, now. Then one final squelch; a slight sigh, and the audio turns off completely.]
[There are odd organic noises all through this post, strange squelchy sounds that are almost too soft to be noted. At high points of the telling, they might get louder, but generally they run just like an underlying current.]
A Lion and a Bear seized a Kid at the same moment, and fought fiercely for its possession. When they had fearfully lacerated each other and were faint from the long combat, they lay down exhausted with fatigue. A Fox, who had gone around them at a distance several times, saw them both stretched on the ground with the Kid lying untouched in the middle. He ran in between them, and seizing the Kid, scampered off as fast as he could. The Lion and the Bear saw him, but not being able to get up, said, "Woe be to us, that we should have fought and belabored ourselves only to serve the turn of a Fox."
In short: one man has all the toil, and another all the profit.
Everyone here seems so bothered! So caught up, so prepared to, hm-m, jump at the slightest of sounds. The drop of a hat. So quick to make threats, to harm without a proper-- [A soft wet thud, like something being dropped on the ground.] --examination. Impassioned children, such bold souls. So quick to answer to threats, too. And the purpose?
Do you die? Some! Most--aah, cling, and remain. One handed, perhaps, or no hands at all. And what is the longest record of return? A month? Three? A year? It's a good show, but when the entrances and exits are unclear--aaah, how annoying. I'll stand back. Waiting is sometimes as good as action--though those that have promised me entertainment have bored me so far. Even the most patient of dogs can grow quickly towards boredom. Unless there are volunteers: clowns to caper?
[And, just before the audio turns off--quietly:] Noki.
[And a pause, as if waiting for an immediate response. Just silence, now. Then one final squelch; a slight sigh, and the audio turns off completely.]