Dustrise was nearing her last breath. She didn't mind. She had lived an uncomfortable, unbalanced,
unsatisfying life; it was about time she made herself useful. One less mouth to feed.
This was the mantra she has embedded into herself as she pawed at a rock. A small
lodestone floating
atop a dead leaf in a murky puddle. It was an odd thing--no matter how much she attacked the water or
clawed the leaf or insulted the rock, it refused to sink. Something about it magnetising to the north, or
something? It gazed up at her with no expression whatsoever as you'd expect from, well, a rock.
Yet Dustrise felt offended for some reason. Maybe it was her old age upgrading her grumpiness levels. Maybe
it was her pent-up irritation translating into pettiness.
Or maybe it was the fact she suffered from dyspraxia.
It wasn't a smooth transition when she developed it. She had to be dragged to the greenhouse, shackles
raised. Fine, dragged was an exaggeration--she was helped by her clanmates just so she could limp there.
It was devastating to discover that she was suddenly useless. Suddenly hopeless. Suddenly nothing. All
because of an injury she couldn't even remember getting. Apparently, her lifespan shortened too.
The lodestone before her had stilled, with a distorted reflection of her behind it. This is gonna be one of
those moments, wasn't it? When she realises she sees herself in that rock. When she remembers she had once
gazed up but now only glared down in disappointment of herself. When she gets mad at how she was relating
to a rock, and yet SHE was the one to sink while that STUPID rock STAYED FLOATING--
Drip. Dustrise stopped herself. Warmth was seeping from her eyes, joining the puddle below. Hah... Crying
over of a rock? She really was getting old. Maybe she should just let time slip, life fade and everything fall
from under her. Maybe she should just let herself down and be done with it.
Or... Or maybe she should get over herself and try gazing up again. Rocks sink, but always resurface on the
shore. She sunk, but still holding her breath. It can't get any harder than it already is, right?
Yeah. It's about time she made herself useful.