A wave of motion crashes into Frei, lacking form or focus the wave of motion is followed up with a thinner line, of force. Echoes of communication and movement caught within.
Overlapping and sending him careening onwards, the material of Frei's shard-shell cracking under the pressure pushed and prodded as echoes that almost feel like thoughts come through.
Outsider, enemy, Frei is not other to Frei, he grasps his memories as his thoughts clash with them gripping them tightly, remembering how to return and to move towards.
Another reaches towards Frei, he needs to move toward the ship, a clash of pressure knocks him off course again, he reaches back toward the other
He must reach away from the other
Tendrils meet.
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This one reaches the other memories and glimpses from others held in a tendril, following the waves of motion we create, launched towards the other the outsider, the lost one who travels in search of...
lost we must return we cannot be subsumed or destroyed.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The memories are incomplete, thoughts, the lost without others a need to not become something like that again
To the ship we go to those like us unlike us? Not us? This fragment follows the buffering motions.
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Crui watches a great motion leave the hive-structure, One that must be Frei buffets out in an attempt to reach them others gripping at him, waves of force moving and carrying great objects fit with tools to cause destruction and harm.
Crui reaches out to He Who Defends they must wake all who are not fully in stupor, they must move to catch and save Frei, for the Others here are enemy.
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Frei sets himself in motion pulling out small fins, miniature wings, to assist movement another pulls along behind him
Return, to not be alone,
He cannot bring himself to let this one go
The waves of force follow buffeting a wave of cooperation seem to be held in the communication, from one great motion onto the next, dull enough that he can adjust his movements against them and yet the motions crash back inwards a pulling effect drawing him towards its source
Damage follows, motion then rest then return,
They pull each other close sheltering themselves and angling the wings as a shield.
fear
Pain
a loss of focus
They grab at each other and at the things around them flowing washing waveing grasping, and they find a string, home, hive, ship, They do not know, they do not care, they grip, they are caught, and a tendril pulls to them, to pull them out of it, a package of food,
they are in the ship.
they are safe again.