Root

I could not fathom all there was to see and do in this strange and wondrous place. There was no end to what I had to learn. The labyrinth of city streets, so full of noise and life, streets bustling with mechanical carriages and so many electric lights. The home provided to me, an apartment, was garishly lit, sparsely furnished, and oddly devoid of color. The bed small, my feet hanging off the end, the mattress much too soft. Dragging the blankets from it, I preferred the nest I made in the corner of the room, the lights extinguished and the door shut tight.

Beyond the walls, I could often hear voices, terror and curiosity warring within me. Still, I was warm and safe and I slept, my belly full, just as the young man, Lee, had promised.

On this second day, I left the security of the Bramford Building and set out on foot. There were murmurs of voices and pointed fingers, but no crack of gunfire. No screams or accusations. I moved about freely, having donned the soft hooded tunic and heavy trousers Lee had helped me to procure.

After walking until the sun was low, I found myself in the countryside, drawing crisp air into my lungs and listening to all the sounds of the forest, of which I had experienced so little during my time in North. I came upon a small, wooden building and copse of lovely apple trees. Surrounding a wooden stand were people, families not unlike the old man's, and wary, I hovered at a distance. They sipped from white cups, and nibbled small pastries, the scent of warm spices filling the air.

A young woman approached, a smile on her face. In my mind, an echo. For me?

"Hi, welcome to Darrow Orchards. Would you like to try our fresh pressed cider?"

I nodded, recalling what the old man taught me of manners. "Yes, please."

The first cup crushed in my hands, hot liquid dousing my skin. I hissed, jumping back in alarm. The woman was kind, apologizing to me as if the error had not been my own. She returned with another, along with a ring of fried dough. "Consider it a free sample," she smiled. I smiled back, though I did not entirely grasp her meaning.

The cider was warm, and the fried dough exploded on my tongue with unfamiliar sweetness.

"Mm," I hummed, consuming the pastry in two bites and wondered how I might procure another.


[[Find The Creature wandering the city, or after he's discovered at a cider donut stand in the countryside in the early evening. GIVE HIM FRIENDS.]]