Unfortunately the image of something tunneling after him fired off too many associations for him not to give the matter of the world something to work with. He'd fought a grootslang only a few years ago, and remembered it like it was yesterday afternoon.
He clamped down on the thought, though not thinking of giant fire-breathing snakes was a challenge when in a desert surrounded by exploding, burning trees, but America had a point. This was a land of imagination and they were playing like they only had imaginations on par with the mortals who'd taken this place.
Well, he'd seen a lot more than a mortal had. That meant he could imagine a lot more terrible things to come after them, unfortunately. He had to beat them to the punch by imagining what could help them instead.
The phosphorous was a nice touch, and he skidded to a stop with his paws on the sand. Holding himself back from letting a trail of flowers grow in his steps, from replicating his warren in a superficial, decorative sense, was smart, but what good actually was holding back from reaching down into the heart of an uncultivated world, and showing it what a spirit of spring had cultivated of his?
He could make springtime on every continent. Maybe here he'd have to make a continent first, but that wasn't so much of a stretch.
"Fine, just pass it through the surface of the planet. I can imagine that better'n a warped . . . whatever you said."
His entire planet had a heartbeat and a life of her own, and she listened to his requests. She permitted him to take care of the mortals who'd appeared on her surface. This world could be as kind. This world could be as stable, as rich and welcoming. He held the image of Grandmother Earth in his mind, sank into the memories of crossing her surface in a day, knowing every cave and mountain and plain and forest that an entire planet could hold.
Listen to me.
He held the image of the children in his mind, the way he'd passed so quickly to so many other scared, stolen children, with the permission of his planet to reach them faster underground than anyone could find them above. The way the tunnels opened where he needed them to go, the way sound passed through earth and stone to reach his ears and lead him to the children who needed saving most -
Lead me to them.
He stamped the ground to open a tunnel, believing with all his might that the right one would open before the groot . . . the whatever it was reached them.
no subject
Unfortunately the image of something tunneling after him fired off too many associations for him not to give the matter of the world something to work with. He'd fought a grootslang only a few years ago, and remembered it like it was yesterday afternoon.
He clamped down on the thought, though not thinking of giant fire-breathing snakes was a challenge when in a desert surrounded by exploding, burning trees, but America had a point. This was a land of imagination and they were playing like they only had imaginations on par with the mortals who'd taken this place.
Well, he'd seen a lot more than a mortal had. That meant he could imagine a lot more terrible things to come after them, unfortunately. He had to beat them to the punch by imagining what could help them instead.
The phosphorous was a nice touch, and he skidded to a stop with his paws on the sand. Holding himself back from letting a trail of flowers grow in his steps, from replicating his warren in a superficial, decorative sense, was smart, but what good actually was holding back from reaching down into the heart of an uncultivated world, and showing it what a spirit of spring had cultivated of his?
He could make springtime on every continent. Maybe here he'd have to make a continent first, but that wasn't so much of a stretch.
"Fine, just pass it through the surface of the planet. I can imagine that better'n a warped . . . whatever you said."
His entire planet had a heartbeat and a life of her own, and she listened to his requests. She permitted him to take care of the mortals who'd appeared on her surface. This world could be as kind. This world could be as stable, as rich and welcoming. He held the image of Grandmother Earth in his mind, sank into the memories of crossing her surface in a day, knowing every cave and mountain and plain and forest that an entire planet could hold.
Listen to me.
He held the image of the children in his mind, the way he'd passed so quickly to so many other scared, stolen children, with the permission of his planet to reach them faster underground than anyone could find them above. The way the tunnels opened where he needed them to go, the way sound passed through earth and stone to reach his ears and lead him to the children who needed saving most -
Lead me to them.
He stamped the ground to open a tunnel, believing with all his might that the right one would open before the groot . . . the whatever it was reached them.