Curiosity is the wick
Having yet to let go of her mom's hand, Knell picks her way over a particularly tall root, the soft skin of her palm splitting as she clambers awkwardly over it. Only a small flicker of a grimace reveals the injury, quickly dismissed by the girl as she gawks at the forest around them. The last few days have been a constant blaze of information as her mind adjusts and flexes to the increased awareness of the world around her. Every experience is an opportunity, an adventure, a puzzle to reverse engineer, a chance to absorb as much knowledge as she can digest.
The glowing blue of her eyes skim across the new environment they traverse, cataloguing the number of trees, their angles and distribution, the fading color and texture of what leaves remain, the bushes and brambles bundled beneath. She thinks about where she suspects the sunlight usually hits, how the density of the foliage affects what lies under it, where the prey might hide, what the best path through is. All the while, she's aware of the sting of her palm, the hazy ache in her stomach, the way her limbs feel too big, the cold that tingles along her fingertips.
Knell buries her face into the orange scarf she wears, the coarseness of her red curls pressing against the bright flush of her cheeks to frame the vibrant curiosity that lands on Charlie. "Mama, how will we find the food?" Her white and red tail sways awkwardly behind her, steadying her as she stumbles over her own feet, her grasp on the priestess's hand tightening until she regains her balance on the next step, failing to distract her from the answers that she intends to discover today.
The glowing blue of her eyes skim across the new environment they traverse, cataloguing the number of trees, their angles and distribution, the fading color and texture of what leaves remain, the bushes and brambles bundled beneath. She thinks about where she suspects the sunlight usually hits, how the density of the foliage affects what lies under it, where the prey might hide, what the best path through is. All the while, she's aware of the sting of her palm, the hazy ache in her stomach, the way her limbs feel too big, the cold that tingles along her fingertips.
Knell buries her face into the orange scarf she wears, the coarseness of her red curls pressing against the bright flush of her cheeks to frame the vibrant curiosity that lands on Charlie. "Mama, how will we find the food?" Her white and red tail sways awkwardly behind her, steadying her as she stumbles over her own feet, her grasp on the priestess's hand tightening until she regains her balance on the next step, failing to distract her from the answers that she intends to discover today.
Knell
in the candle of learning.
