username;; Ralonica Thorondor
name;; Tanis
favorite beverage;; Fresh, cold water
favorite food;; Pomegranates
art or story about his favorites;;
It’s just after sunrise and cold morning air rushes over me as I watch the sun from my perch under a small pomegranate tree. I love the morning. I reach up, pulling a ripe pomegranate from one of the lowest branches. I’m slightly thirsty. I slowly stretch from under the tree, the pomegranate securely wedged in my mouth. No-one else had figured out how to open up the tough skin and flesh, no-one but me knows that the seeds are shiny, red explosions of sweetness in your mouth. I find refuge in that. I find security in things others don’t know about.
I break into a run, feeling the wind against my skin as I race down towards a small hollow. I stop, seeing a small spring below me, hidden in the rocks, holding cool, fresh water. Another of my favourites that is hidden to all but me.
I spend some time at the spring, my pomegranate safe on a rock-pile. I bend down, drinking the water. Water is definitely my favourite drink. I don’t understand why others consider it tasteless, when I think it has a thousand tastes. People fail to notice the beauty in the most ordinary things.
I hear the harsh sound of something crashing through the undergrowth. My back stiffens and I glance up, seeing my pomegranate. And before I can act, a young kiamara springs from the trees, sees the fruit and instantly pounces on it.
I watch as the youngster investigates the pomegranate. He meets my gaze, and mischievously picks up the pomegranate in his mouth. On
purpose“Excuse me.” I say. “I happen to have uses for that.”
The curious stare I get tells me it has never occurred to him that I could possibly
want the shiny red fruit that’s his mouth. But the more I stare at him, thinking he’ll give it back, the more he grins. And to my absolute horror, he settles it between his paws and sinks his teeth into it, taking a bite.
What if he bites deep into the fruit and tastes hidden sweetness inside, like I had done so many years ago? My secret would be out, I would no longer have refuge in the special fruit. I see him gnawing at the skin, trying to pierce the flesh.
The young kiamara lifts his head, making a face. Red juice dribbles from his chin, and I tense. But he immediately spits out what he’s chewed off, while giving me a dirty stare.
“You trying to poison me?” he says before indignantly stalking off.
I leap up the rocks to my pomegranate, untouched except for one bite. There are marks around the skin, but he didn’t manage to penetrate far enough. I peer at where he bit into it, and see the seeds glistening underneath. If he had looked down, he may have realised there was sweetness in the fruit.
But he failed to notice the underlying beauty, like many before him.