Recuperation
I’ve been spending some time away from the dark of the Cavern. When I first arrived in the desert, the light almost blinded me… I suppose that happens quite often, but this is the first time I remember it hurting so badly. Will has been generous enough to take me in for a while, and I’ve spent a great deal of time recounting the events that occurred down there with Will. I had begun this entry with the intention of explaining what happened to me, but it appears as if my recording device took it upon itself to record automatically bits and pieces of my time with T.
T, what an unbelievable set of events. I’ve been attempting to sketch the details of him from memory. I never imagined I would see a tracker so close. The details of his face, his hands. Perhaps when I return to the cavern I will post them here, for anyone that might be interested.
I attempted, over the course of our exodus from the unknown ruins of Ae’gura, to communicate with the tracker. Vocal communication just didn’t work, but I was able to make some very basic progress using pictograms drawn in the dust. It was then that I realised that there was no way this creature, or his peers could be responsible for the deaths of the D’ni people. Why would they slaughter an entire village in cold blood, but leave me alive? I was immediately disgusted with myself for letting my emotions cloud my judgement, Rule 23.
Mr. K. Lord, StarCat…you were both right. I should have listened to your wise words.
I almost killed him, slashing through him with my knife. His dark purple blood slowly dripping out of him. I could almost see his energy slowly drain over those days, his eyes in pain. I caused that to him, with my pride, my selfishness.
I refused to let him die, even though I myself was in just as dire a situation.
It happened so gradually, our bonding. I didn’t notice it for the longest time. Perhaps I felt sorry for him…
Perhaps he felt sorry for me.
When I saw the titanic piles of rubble that impeded our progress, I knew there was no way I could get out without T.
When I discovered he could barely percieve the soft orange light weakly illuminating our path, I realised that there was no way he would get out without me.
We eventually did escape to the calm waters of the lake. The gentle lapping sounds soothed me so quickly and totally, it was like a rush of wind around my body.
I must admit, even in the euphoria of finding our way to the lake, I was still nervous about showing T the way to my dwelling. I got him the book, but he did not go.
He held out his hands, bearing his spear towards me.
My heart stopped. He kept his hands held out to me, holding something so very important to him. I took it.
It took all my willpower to not stammer like an idiot, as I took out my knife, and held it out to him.
He understood far quicker than I had. He took it from me.
He crossed his arms, and bowed his head to them.
A gesture of respect. Of friendship.
I did the same. I could not help but smile as I did so.
T was my friend. Something that had happened during our time together. I hadn’t allowed myself to think about it up until that very moment.
I only wish I was able to make better strides in communication with him.
I must admit, I am surprised that I miss him, but I do. Will says it’s totally understandable, and perhaps it is.
“To effectively communicate, we must realize that we are all different in the way we perceive the world and use this understanding as a guide to our communication with others.”
– Anthony Robbins
