Adaptation

“What… is it?” Riven’s head quirked curiously to the side, a peculiar habit Zephyr had often associated with the creatures called dogs. The Watcher seemed prone to such unusual gestures. However, he ignored this observation in order to address her question as they both gazed outwards towards a human village on the horizon.

“Pax once called it ‘music.’ I believe you are familiar with this term,” he responded, listening to the light, haunting notes as they carried softly through the light spring air. He was still adjusting to the idea that this strange, vibrant world they had discovered cyclically changed in temperature, brightness, and landscape as time progressed, but this did not halt him from taking notice of the small nuisances such as this ‘music.’ Pax had often spoken of it to all of them; how the same tones that could be heard in their very voices were transformed by rhythm and pitch into a cacophony of noise that was supposedly considered entertaining. At first, Zephyr had scoffed at the idea, until he had heard it for himself while beside the white-haired, older boy.

 Riven’s eyes narrowed — a gesture indicating she was considering deeply the association between Pax’s teachings and what she was now hearing. At last, she closed her eyes relaxedly and lifted her face towards the sound. “It is… pleasant… It calls to my body.”

Watcher: able to understand that which she had never known before. The air pulsed around them.

Abruptly, he reached out a hand, gripping her about the waist and pulling her to him. Her eyes snapped open, but between the two not a ripple of emotion stirred over either face; she did not feel surprise, and he did not express intent, both as though porcelain mannequins.  

“What are you doing?”

“Teaching you.”

“Teaching?”

Offering no further explanation, Zephyr guided one of her hands to his shoulder, gripping the other in his own palm. She blinked, the only indication of confusion she was capable of conveying, and allowed him to lead as he began the steps of a waltz. Predictably, she followed flawlessly, able to translate his unspoken instruction with no prompting whatsoever. Their eyes stayed locked as they moved gracefully across the hillside, stepping as though they had done so for their entire lives.

“Does this satisfy the call?”

She nodded and he twirled her so that they were once again facing the village. His gaze shifted from her to accomodate the source of the music once again.

“They call this dancing — an answer to music. The humans seem quite enamoured with the act, engaging in it constantly, whether singularly, in pairs, or as a group. There are many types, from what I’ve seen, and they change with the human, but it is meant to be an expression of emotion, just as music.” Looking back down at Riven, he found her gazing up at him with an unreadable expression. Since their emergence into this world of brightness and life, she had seemed to adapt more readily to the idea of facial expressions, her face contorting ever so subtly when she did not realize it. This time, her lips ghosted with the hint of a curve.

“Mm… I believe I like this ‘dancing.’” Without realizing what he was doing, his grip tightened and he pulled her closer.  

“I thought you might.” Pax had said as much. “…Silly Little Girl…”

They continued until the sun had left the world in darkness.

~ by eeratka on August 30, 2007.