13th Day of the Seventh Moon (13 VII)
629 Words
13th Day of the Seventh Moon (13 VII)
The Trouble With Me.
So, me being me, I have been giving Nyden a wide berth. In fact, after his arrival I retreated a little from everyone.
I feel bad about it, as I always do. But this sudden influx of people into my life and my personal space has been hard to adjust to. With the addition of Nyden, it was all suddenly too much. I ache for the peace and quiet of our little valley, when it was just Pense and Sigwide and me.
I have isolated myself nicely; even my beloved Pensould is not here with me. I found a distant tree, in the branches of which I created a sturdy hammock. Now I lie here, writing and feeling more at peace than I have in days. My only companion is Sigwide, from whom I am rarely willingly parted. He is curled up in the crook of my left arm, sleeping peacefully. He has a habit lately of radiating love, even while he sleeps. If only people knew how to do such things, I might be more comfortable around them. But humans are so closed. It is desperately hard to read them, and to my disappointment, draykoni senses have not helped me there.
The thing about people is… well, I do not know what it is about them that rattles me so badly. But perhaps such things are beyond explanation. What is your greatest fear? Perhaps it is heights, or crawling insects. Such phobias are common enough that they are broadly accepted as reasonable, even if they are not. Yes, falling from a great height will kill a wingless person, but in the vast majority of cases, people do not fall. The danger exists, but it is remote. It is no use telling that to a person standing on the edge of a cliff, however. He or she can see nothing but the drop below, and is too paralysed with fright to assess the reality of the danger.
This is how I react to the presence of strangers, and the more of them there are around me, the worse it gets. Why do I fear people? Most of them would not dream of harming me, even if they could. I know this. But fear is not rational.
I used to panic if I knew I was soon to be brought face-to-face with a lot of people. Sometimes I still do, though it is rarer now. I am growing more resilient, as I gain a little in years and strength and (it is to be hoped) wisdom. But to find myself at the centre of this growing community of newcomers is disconcerting, and I never thought that such folk would look to someone like me to lead them. I feel the pressure exceedingly, for the price of failing in this scenario is higher than it has ever been before.
Anyway, enough about that. I merely wished to explain this early, because I have no doubt that it will continue to have an impact on my behaviour in the future, and if I expect my readers to understand anything about the coming moons and the way I (and we, as a colony) handle them, then the painful process of confession must be gone through.
I can only apologise for this most absurd aspect of my nature, and move on.
Words cannot fully express my gratitude for Pensould, however. He alone understands me entirely, and loves me anyway. If I need company, he is there. If I need quiet, as I do today, then he will leave me be with good grace, and await my return. I only wish that everybody could have such a person at their side.
Which is odd, considering how—
- Writer
